The Road That You Go
by Morbidmuch
Summary: "I'm not sure exactly why this whole thing wasn't freaking me out more, but it may have something to do with the fact that the last thing that happened to me in London was that I was shot. Death has a certain way of putting perspective on things." Legolas/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Uh, yeah. Hi. Words can't describe how nervous I am about posting this story. Tolkien-purists can, and most likely will, rip this story to shreds. Yes, this is a tenth walker fic. Yes, this is a girl-falls-into-ME story. Yes, it's a Legomance. But, I have worked hard on this story to make it stand out amongst the other fics of the same category. And not to blow my own horn, but I think this is a good story with better character development than at least half of the Legomance stories I've read.

So if you are not a fan of tenth walker fics, girl-falling-into-ME fics, or Legomance fics, this is where I respectfully ask of you to click the back button. Flames are unnecessary, and will be removed.

This has become a too long author's note, so I'll stop now.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except for my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Prologue

"Oh come on!" I cry out and throw my arms in the air when the bus turns out from the curb only a few seconds before I reach it. It's late, and I'm tired. The rain that is profusely pouring down is most likely giving me the appearance of a drenched rat, and I curse myself to Hades for not remembering to bring an umbrella. Walking to the bus stop I eye the schedule, and feel like crying in sheer frustration when I realize that it was the last bus I just missed. Bloody great. In the distance I hear a church bell chime 12 as I cross the street to get to the nearest tube station. I can feel the rain water soaking me to the bone, and my hair sticks in wet tresses to my face.

My shoes make a squishy sound as I walk inside the tube station, but at least I'm out of the rain. The entire station is deserted, and it's giving me a creepy feeling. One of the lights are blinking, reminding me of a bad horror movie. There isn't more than five minutes until the train is arriving, and I wrap my arms around my torso as I stand and wait. I still have that eerie feeling, and I nervously glance around. Blame it on an over-active mind and watching too many horror movies. I'm going to let my brother take all the responsibility for that one.

I turn my eyes back to the floor and start humming quietly to myself. It's a habit I've developed for when I'm in quiet places. I've never really liked silence. Then, my humming stops. I hear footsteps. My heartbeat rises up, and I'm truly scared. It's completely irrational since I don't know who was coming, but still. The footsteps stop, and I can tell that it's not so far away from me. I carefully glance in that direction, and see a man standing there. He looks harmless enough; dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, as drenched from the rain as I am. Even though he doesn't look menacing in any way, I hold my laptop bag a bit tighter to my body, willing with all my being for the train to come soon.

Then my blood freezes to ice when I hear his footsteps again, this time coming closer to me. I stand as rooted to the floor, I can't move a limb. I can smell him now; old sweat, cigarettes and alcohol. It makes me gag. Then I hear a cocking sound and my head snap up to look at him. He is sneering, and is pointing a black gun at me.

"Give me your bag, and I won't have to hurt you."

Fearing for my life, I silently hand him both my purse and my laptop bag. My lower lip starts to tremble, and I feel tears leak up in my eyes. He eyes me, his beady eyes coming to rest on the pendant at my throat.

"The necklace too." He gestures with the gun for me to take it off.

Not knowing why, I cry out, "No!" The pendant had been my grandmother's, and she had given me it just hours before she died.

He grabs my arm, and I cry out in pain. I struggle against his hold, and almost manage to break his grip on my arm. Then I feel like he just punched me in the chest. I stumble back, in shock. I raise my hand to touch my chest, and when I pull my hand back it's stained in blood. A burning sensation spreads like wildfire through my body, and every breath hurts. I fall down on my knees, my knees not supporting me. I hear running footsteps, and when I look up I'm once again alone. He ran away. I try to stand up, but I'm dizzy, and fighting to remain conscious.

I know now that I'm going to die. Alone in the middle of the night, in a tube station. All because some guy thought it was a good idea to mug me. Tears leak from my eyes. I'm never going to do the things I wanted to. Get a tattoo; travel to Italy to study art; get married; have kids. I won't have any of it.

I feel my body sinking fully to the ground, and black spots appear every time I blink.

Everything goes black, and I am no more.

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Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Yeah, so this is chapter one. Hope you like it. I kind of do.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 1

I wake up abruptly, as if from a nightmare. Then I look around. Big snowy mountains are looming up behind me, making me insignificantly small. I sit up gingerly, groaning at the pain in my head. When I'm on my feet I realize that I'm cold from lying on the ground. Then I frown. Why exactly was I lying on the ground? I was shot, so I should either be in a hospital or dead. Since this is obviously not a hospital, I come to the conclusion that I'm dead.

Great, that's just bloody great.

I shiver; my clothes are soaked and my toes are numb. Sighing, I start walking. Do dead people still get cold? Because I am, so cold my teeth are chattering and every step is painful. Still, I keep on walking. If this is heaven I'm going to be so pissed at God. Maybe this isn't heaven. Maybe it's hell. The term "when hell freezes over" comes to mind, but I brush that thought away. I might not be a saint, but I haven't done anything that would make me deserving of hell.

I don't know for how long I'm walking, but from the way the pale sun has moved I would guess a couple of hours. I've come to realize by now that this is definitely not heaven. Heaven is supposed to be all warm and fuzzy; green fields and eating great food. I haven't eaten in I don't know how long, and my stomach is cramping, screaming at me to feed it. I wouldn't be hungry if this was heaven. I'm also starting to get tired, but I force myself to keep going because if I fall asleep in the snow I'll most likely freeze to death. I wonder where I'd end up if I died again. Back in London? It's starting to get dark, and I realize that I can't keep walking all night. As I look out over the land I suddenly see a glimpse of orange light. A fire? I hope whoever is by the fire is friendly, because I need to get warm. The small orange light is my guide as I walk across the uneven ground.

I'm now close enough to the fire that I can see three people sitting around it and the forms of six people lying down, presumably sleeping. The flames of the fire light up their faces just enough so that I can see that one is a very old man dressed in grey, a pipe in his mouth; a younger looking man with shoulder length brown hair, and the last person who is sitting with their back towards me I'm guessing is a woman because of the long straight blonde hair. They must hear me coming, because all three sets of eyes turn to me. In the blink of an eye there is an arrow pointing straight at my head, and when my eyes focus from the arrow to the archer I see that the blond isn't a woman, but a man with long hair. Oops, my bad. He says something in a language I don't understand, and I feel tears starting to rise in my eyes. Is he going to kill me?

"Please don't hurt me, I mean no harm. I've been walking for hours, I don't know where I am and when I saw your fire I just wanted to get warm and maybe you could tell me where I am. Please."

His blue eyes are narrowed suspiciously at me, and I can see his fingers flexing at the bow string, as if he wants to release the arrow and let it embed in my brain. I decide that I don't like him at all. The brown haired man says something in the same foreign language to the blond, and he slowly lowers his bow. My legs suddenly feel too weak to support me, and I fall down on my ass. The same brown-haired man who spoke earlier stands up and walks over to me.

He crouches down in front of me, bringing him eye level to me. He eyes are grey and looks kind, though I can still see a glimmer of suspicion in them. "What is your name?" his voice is surprisingly kind.

"My name is J-Julia," I stutter, reaching up to brush away the tears that have fallen down my face. He looks back at the old man by the fire, who lets out a coil of smoke in the air.

"She is not a spy. Nor does she mean us any harm." He stands up, and I notice that he doesn't look as frail as his age otherwise would suggest. "Come child, sit by the fire. You must be cold."

I stand up slowly, still feeling weak. I have barely risen to my feet before my knees give out again. Before I can fall again the man in front of me is on his feet and catches me. I cling to him, my hands gripping the soft leather of his sleeves.

"Easy now," he says, wrapping a steady arm around my shoulder and leading me to the fire. I sit down as close to the fire as I dare, and start working on the laces of my shoes. They are soaked, and I know I have to get them of so that I can warm my feet. I am still shivering, and the man with the grey eyes wraps a blanket around my shoulders.

"Thank you," I mumble, feeling my eyes drop slightly. I haven't realized just how tired I am, but I don't want to fall asleep without knowing exactly where I am and what's going on. I sit up straighter and look at the old man. "Where am I, and who are you?"

"You are in Middle Earth; though I do not know why you have come. Your purpose is hidden to me. I am Gandalf, and this," he nods towards the grey eyed man, "is Aragorn, and Legolas," he gestures towards the blond, who is now sitting down next to Aragorn. He eyes me warily, and then turns his head and stares off into the night. As he does so I can see that his ear is pointed.

Wait, what?

Gandalf, obviously sensing my confusion, actually chuckles. "I assume I am correct when I say that you have never seen an Elf before?"

My eyes turn to him, wide. "An Elf? Is he an Elf too?" I nod towards Aragorn, whom I can see is listening in on our conversation.

"No, Aragorn is of mankind."

"What about you? Are you a man too?"

Gandalf smiles as he takes a drag from his pipe. "No. I am a Wizard."

Seriously? I stifle a laugh. This is got to be some sort of weird dream. I'm probably in a coma and am just dreaming all of this stuff. "A Wizard, really? That's just great; I end up in a place with its own Dumbledore."

"Is Dumbledore a Wizard in your world?" Gandalf sounds curious, and I shake my head.

"No, he's a book character. Can we get back to the part with the Elves and the wizards?"

Gandalf begins telling me about Middle Earth, its history and people, in simplified terms, I'm sure. Words like Dwarves, Hobbits, Rivendell and Gondor flies through my mind as I try to make sense of everything. It's all too much for my brain to handle, and I can feel the beginnings of a headache coming up.

Gandalf probably reads the exhaustion on my face, because he stops his telling. "Do not trouble your mind with that which lies before you. Sleep, and I can assure you that everything will seem clearer in the morning."

I hesitate, throwing a glance at the Elf. Can I trust him not to shoot me in my sleep? Then my eyes shift to Aragorn, and he gives me a small nod. I manage to give him a tight-lipped smile in return, and then I lie down on the bedroll I've been sitting on, curling into a foetal position and wrapping the blanket closer to my body. Even though the ground is hard and uneven I'm so exhausted that I feel myself falling asleep as soon as I close my eyes.

I am awoken by hushed voices. The smell of bacon and sausages cooking hits my nose, and at the same time there is a loud noise; like someone has just dropped a skillet on the ground. I open my eyes only to discover a tiny, shaggy headed creature sitting next to my bedroll, staring down at me with curious eyes. I scream, and he jumps back quickly, looking as frightened as I felt. I sit up cautiously, drawing my knees up to my chest.

"Pippin, why don't you go and join Merry for breakfast?" Aragorn is walking up to us, and the creature runs away pretty quickly. I only stare after him. He looks like a normal man, but he's only about three feet tall! What the fuck?! "You have no need to feel frightened, Julia. He is one of the Hobbits Gandalf spoke about last night. He will not harm you. Come, join me by the fire and I will introduce him along with the rest of my companions."

I scramble to my feet and stretch out my back before shyly following Aragorn to the fire, where everybody is sitting and eating breakfast. Other than Gandalf and Legolas, I count four of the creatures Aragorn called Hobbits; a bearded short man whom I assume is the Dwarf, and a man who looks similar to Aragorn but with lighter hair. They all look up when they hear us approach, and I give a shy smile. Gandalf is the only one who looks happy enough to see me; the others are staring at me, looking quite shocked. I don't blame them; it must be weird to wake up and suddenly have a new member of your little group. Especially a woman.

"Good morning Julia, I trust that you have slept well?" Gandalf says with a twinkle in his blue eyes that reminds me of my grandfather. I nod; I don't trust my voice to hold if I were to speak. I'm bloody nervous.

"This rascal here is Peregrin Took, but goes by Pippin," Aragorn say, gesturing to the hobbit who had woken me up. "And this is Meriadoc Brandybuck."

The hobbit sitting beside Pippin lights up in a bright smile. "Call me Merry."

I nod at them, slightly embarrassed by the way Pippin scared me earlier. He seems to have forgotten all about it though, and gives me a friendly smile.

"Would you like some sausages and bacon?" a heavyset hobbit with dark blond curly hair holds out a plate towards me, which I accept.

"Thank you. What is your name?"

His cheeks go a bit red before he answers. "I am Samwise Gamgee, but you can call me Sam."

Aragorn introduces the fourth hobbit, Frodo Baggins, and he smiles kindly at me. He looks weary as Aragorn introduces him to me, and he looks like he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I am Gimli, son of Glóin, at your service," the Dwarf cuts in before Aragorn can introduce him. Despite Gimli's rough exterior, there is a spark in his eyes that make me think that I'll like him a lot.

"Pleased to meet you, Gimli."

"I am Boromir of Gondor," the last man introduces himself. "From where do you hail?"

I hesitate, not really sure if I should tell them or not. "Uh, from a place called London."

Boromir frown. "London? I've never heard of such a place."

"Boromir, it is too early in the morning for interrogations. Let us eat our breakfast and then be on our way," Aragorn says with a warning look in his eyes. Boromir silences, and turns back to his food. I give Aragorn a look of gratitude, and he nods almost indiscernible. I sit down next to Gandalf and start to eat, barely resisting the urge to stuff my face full with all the food I can get my hands on. Somehow, I don't think that'll make a good impression with these guys. But then again, you never know.

After I finish eating I ask Sam if there's anywhere I can clean my plate and flatware, and he points in the direction of a small stream of clear water that runs along side our camping site. I blush; I can't believe I'm so unobservant. I sit down at the bank and clean my plate, the chilly water making my skin burst out in goose-bumps. As the water stills I get a pretty good look at myself, and I gasp. I look terrible! I've got dark circles under my eyes, both from exhaustion and make up, and my hair is a tangled mess. It's sticking out in all kinds of directions, and I groan. The chances of someone having a comb or a brush are practically none existent. Washing my face in the small stream, I manage to get the rest of my make up off. Which is nice, since I no longer look like a raccoon. I walk back to the camp-site, feeling more self conscious about my appearance than I did before.

The others are packing up as I return to the camp-site, and Sam takes the flatware from my hands with a small smile. Since I don't have anything to pack, I stand around uncomfortably, just watching the as others gather their things and put them into leather bags. As Aragorn passes me, I lightly graze his arm. He stops and looks at me, and I feel my face burn red at the question I'm about to ask. Aragorn looks like he hasn't brushed his hair in weeks. Nor washed it.

"I know it's a really stupid question, but you don't happen to have a comb or something like that on you?"

He chuckles, and shakes his head. "I am afraid not." He looks over to the others and I feel like sinking through the ground when he calls out to Legolas. I don't understand what he's saying because he's talking in that strange language again, and I try to watch Legolas' face for an indicator of what is spoken between them. I am disappointed though, as his face remains as impassive as it has been since I first saw him this morning. He glances at me, then bends down over his bag and starts to rummage through one of the pockets. I nearly die of embarrassment when he stands up and I see the pearly white comb in is hand. He hands it over to me, and I mumble a thanks.

I turn my back on him as I start to comb through my hair, I don't want to see him look at me. Not that I know why he would look at me, but still. My eyes tear up when the comb makes contact with the many tangles, and I bite my lower lip hard to stop myself from crying out. When my hair is tangle free I remove all the long dark hairs from Legolas' comb and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down before turning back to the others. Legolas is once again standing and just staring out into the wilderness, and he doesn't move a muscle when I approach. I hand him the comb and clear my throat.

"Thank you for lending me it."

He takes the comb from me without a word and I realize I'm not going to get a word out of him. What's his deal? What did I ever do to him? I stick my cold hands in my pockets as I walk towards Gandalf, and I stop when I feel a hair tie in my pocket. I smile, and then shake my head because the notion of a simple hair tie making me so happy is really depressing. I fish it up and tie my hair up in a tight plait, then continue walking towards Gandalf.

"Where are we going exactly?"

"Our first destination is the pass of Caradhras."

My heart sinks, and I feel a chill go up my spine. "Pass of Caradhras? A mountain pass? More snow?"

Gandalf looks slightly amused, but nods. "Yes, more snow. I take it you are getting quite tired of all the snow?"

"You can say that again," I mumble, and Gandalf laughs.

"Do you not have snow where you are from?" Boromir comes up to my left, fastening his sword at his belt.

I nod. "We do, but I don't particularly like snow, if I'm to be honest."

Boromir chuckles. "Neither do I."

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Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you to all who has reviewed/added to favourites/alerts. Without further ado, here's chapter two.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything but for my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 2

Before I know it, we've started to walk towards the pass of Caradhras. Gandalf walks in the lead, with Merry and Pippin behind him. Gimli follows them, with Frodo behind him, in front of Boromir and Aragorn. I am walking behind Aragorn, in front of Sam and the pony, and Legolas walks last.

The silence in which we walk is killing me, and I run a few steps to catch up with Aragorn. He looks at me, albeit kindly, waiting for me to speak. "Why are you doing this?" He looks puzzled, and I clarify. "Going on this 'mission', or whatever it is. I've only been here for 24 hours, and I find it had to believe that two Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, a Wizard and four Hobbits just decided to take a really long walk together."

The corners of his mouth tug upwards, and I can tell he's fighting a smile. "You are correct in your assumptions. Though I cannot tell you what our purpose for this is, and neither should you ask. Just know that all will be revealed in time."

Aragorn should be in politics; he was great at answering my question without revealing anything. A noise from the front of our line make me look up, and I do so just in time to see Frodo slip on something and come tumbling down towards us. Aragorn rushes forward to help him up, and I see Frodo's panic stricken face as he clutches his chest. Am I missing something here? Is he having a heart attack or something? Further ahead, I see Boromir pick up something from the snow, something that gleams in the sunlight. I realize that's it's a ring, and my body freezes. A strange feeling is beginning to rise in my stomach, and a dull murmur reaches my ears. I can't make out the words, if there even are any words; it's just like a wordless chant of some sort.

The look on Aragorn's face now resembles Frodo's, and he approaches Boromir warily. "Boromir?" he says, his voice softer than I've ever heard it.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing...such a little thing." Boromir's words travel through my body like ice. There is something in his voice, an emotion I can't identify, that sends chills down my spine. I don't realize I've stopped moving until I feel Bill poke his nuzzle in my back.

"Boromir…give the ring to Frodo," Aragorn's voice is still quiet, but there's an underlying edge that I don't like. I see his hand move towards his sword hilt.

Whatever trance Boromir has been in seems to let go, and he gives the ring back to Frodo. "As you wish. I care not." His voice is light, but that look in his eyes is still there. Boromir smiles at Frodo, ruffling his hair.

"My Lady, are you unwell?" Sam's voice comes behind me, and I turn my head to look at him. The icy feeling in my stomach is still present, but I push it down.

"No, Sam, I'm quite all right."

"We need to keep moving," comes Legolas' voice behind us and even though it's not unfriendly, I can hear disapproval in his voice. I fight the urge to stomp my foot and yell at him, and instead shoot him what I hope is a frosty glare before I continue walking.

I don't know how many hours we keep on walking, but during those hours I try my hardest to remember why all this now seem vaguely familiar to me. I've already decided not to tell Gandalf anything until I'm surer of what exactly is going on. We're walking steadily uphill, and we don't stop to rest until nightfall. It's almost exactly like last night, only this time I'm not as confused. The wind that blows is chilly, and I curl my body in such an intricate position I could scratch my nose with my knee. Which I actually do when my nose starts to itch and I'm not willing to let my fingers release the grip I have on my ankles. I can hear Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf talking, but I don't understand what they're saying because they're speaking that language again.

If I wasn't so bloody cold I'd get up and stretch my legs, but I refuse to move from the warm cocoon I've built. I eventually fall asleep, and sleep much better than I did last night. Still, when I wake up I've unfolded myself from my cocoon, and my leg is lying out on the snow. I can't feel my toes.

As I stand up, I groan loudly. Every muscle in my body protests against the movement; I'm not used to this kind of exercise. My groaning attracts the attention of Gimli, who gives me a weary expression.

"Sore muscles," I explain, and watch as he chuckles.

"You'll get the hang of it, lassie."

I laugh and stretch my legs as much as I can; we'll be walking even more, so the stiffness will soon pass. I hope.

The routine is practically the same as yesterday; minus the less than welcome awakening I got from Pippin. We eat, pack our things, and then continue walking. The silence is once again too stifling, so I begin to sing softly under my breath.

"_These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."_ I hum the bass line and pretend in my head that I'm strutting around in black high heeled leather boots. Sigh.

"Is it one of your own works?"

I nearly jump high in the air when I hear Legolas' voice to my left. It seems he has been walking next to me. Huh. I didn't notice. "What?"

"The song you were singing; is it one of your own works?"

I blush. Damn it, why am I blushing?! He's rude, and inconsiderate, and…gorgeous. Okay, that's _really_ not helping at the moment. "Uh, no. It's a popular song back home."

"What is your home like?" he has lost that tone in his voice that made me think he hates me, and instead just sounds curious.

"Different from here, that's for sure. I'm beginning to wonder if there's something else but snow here."

Legolas laughs, actually _laughs_, and I'm so caught of guard by the sound I nearly stop. I manage to compose myself though, and wait for him to start speaking. "We are in the Misty Mountains; they have not gotten that name for no reason."

"I'm beginning to gather that." The silence that follows isn't long lived, and I speak up again. "So what's it like where you're from? I'm guessing you're not from the mountains."

"No, Elves do not live in the mountains. My home is Mirkwood, a large forest north of where we are now." I try not to notice the way his eyes light up when he talks about his home, but I can't help it.

"Do you miss it?"

The smile that comes upon his face can only be described as wistful. "I do. More than I thought I would."

"So why are you doing this?"

His smile fades, and there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. Then it's gone so fast I'm almost sure I just imagined it. "It is not my place to tell you. Nor would you truly understand." He averts his eyes from mine and look ahead, where Gandalf has stopped.

"Here it is," he says, sounding as serious as the grave. "The pass of Caradhras."

As I look up at the mountain pass, I feel like stomping my foot and announcing there's no way I'm going up there. But I don't, and I begrudgingly follow the group as we start to climb. The further up we go the colder it gets, the more the wind blows and on top of that it's starting to snow. The snow is now so thick that the hobbits can't walk, and Boromir is carrying Pippin and Merry while Aragorn is holding Frodo. Sam walks in the back with Bill the pony in tow. Gandalf is in the lead, and is doing a good job of sort of tilling up a narrow path. I can't really see anything because of all the snow and every step I take is cautious, because I know the mountain ledge is narrow. The snow is up to my waist, and the cloak Legolas lent me is drenched. Speaking of; that damn Elf is walking on our outside, close to the edge of the ledge,_ on top_ of the snow. Suddenly he stops, and stares out into the air. How he can see anything at all in the blizzard, I have no idea.

"There is a fell voice in the air!" he says urgently, and only then do I hear what sounds like a low voice in the wind, chanting something I can't distinguish.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf roars, and thunder starts cracking through the air. What the bloody hell is going on?! Suddenly rocks and shale is falling down from the mountain above us. I press mysElf as close to the cliff face as I can, my eyes wide as I stare at Gandalf.

"What's going on?" I shout, but I doubt he can hear me.

Aragorn's voice is heard from the back of the line. "He's trying to bring down the mountain. Gandalf! We must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf shouts, but I'm agreeing with Aragorn on this one. Whatever it is that's going on, the mountain seems to be the least safe place for us. Gandalf suddenly raises his staff and starts chanting something into the wind.

The voice in the wind strengthens, sounding like thunder. A lighting crack explodes on the mountainside above us, and I scream in terror. I press my body tighter against the cliff face as a huge avalanche thunders down towards us, and only a second later I am buried under a fuckload of snow. I start to panic, clawing at the snow the best I can. I can't breathe, and I start to feel light headed. I close my eyes and prepare to die for the second time in my short life, but suddenly something grabs my shoulders and pulls me up. I surface, gasping for breath and just in time to see Legolas move away from me to pull Gandalf out. I look back to the rest of the gang, and relief wash through me as I see that everybody has been pulled out, albeit shivering and looking scared.

"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir shouts urgently. "Make for the gap of Rohan and take the West road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn counters, and I want to tell them just to pick a route already.

"We cannot go over a mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli's suggestion is the one I like the most, because it will guarantee no snow. I look to Gandalf to decide, but he has a concerned look on his face.

"Let the ringbearer decide," he says, and his voice sounds surprisingly calm.

Frodo hesitates, and Boromir speaks up. "We cannot stay here. It will be the death of the hobbits!"

"Frodo?"

I see Frodo look to Merry and Pippin, who are shivering. He looks at Gandalf, and when he speaks his voice is confident. "We will go through the mines."

Gandalf slowly nods. "So be it."

The walk down the mountain isn't nearly as tough as the walk up was, but I still silently praise God when we reach solid ground again. We begin to talk towards this Moria Mines, or what it's called. We walk for hours, but it doesn't feel as heavy as before when the snow is thinning out and the temperature is getting warmer. My jeans have almost dried from being soaked in the snow, and I can feel them clinging to my legs, making it hard to take the big steps required to keep up with the rest of the group. I wish I had something to change into, but since I don't I just have to make do with what I have. When we set up camp I sit down next to Gandalf as Sam starts cooking dinner. Gandalf is sucking on his pipe, and the smoke smells sweet. I almost ask him if I can have a puff, but decide against it.

We sit in silence, listening to the sound of the food cooking; Merry and Pippin talking, and the sound of the wind. Boromir sits by himsElf, as does Frodo. Aragorn and Legolas are keeping watch, and I can see their mouths moving, though their words are too low for me to hear.

"Aragorn tells me you are curious as to why we are doing this," Gandalf says, and I tear my eyes away from the fire to look into his blue eyes. He takes another drag of his pipe, and the smoke bellows out in the night as he speaks. "You are no simpleton, Julia. I can see you are trying to understand, and it does pain me that I can offer your mind no solace."

Sam announces that dinner is ready, and I hear my stomach rumble. He smiles slightly at me as I'm handed a plate, and the smile I give back is a bit brighter than his. I can tell he's shy, but I want him to feel at ease around me. After all, who knows how long I'm going to be stuck here. I'd rather not become enemies with these people.

As I lay on my back to sleep later that night, I look up at the brightly shining stars and soak in their shine. You rarely see the stars in London, with all the street lights. In fact, I can't remember the last time I looked up at the stars. I see a shooting star, and wrack my brain trying to figure out what to wish for.

_Whatever is in store for me from here on, please let me be safe. _

Gimli's chainsaw like snores pulls me from my thoughts quickly, and I chuckle low before I let the sound guide me to sleep.

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	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I hope you had an equally fantastic night like I had! I'm so happy that so many people have added this story to favourites/alerts, but I would be even happier if you took the extra time to write a review. It truly makes my day. Without much further ado, on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except for my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 3

We walk the entire next day as well, and it's already becoming dark when we reach a large lake. I want nothing more than to take a bath, but I suppose that's out of the question. That sucks, because I'm stinking pretty badly. My only comfort is that they others are pretty ripe themselves. The lake is on our right as we walk along the shoreline, directly below great looming cliffs.

Gimli looks at the rock wall in awe. "The walls of Moria!"

I look up, seeing the wall stretch up towards the dark sky. A strange feeling is rising in my stomach, and I shiver. The shoreline is slippery, and I find myself holding onto the wall as I carefully step forwards.

"Dwarf walls are invisible when closed!" Gimli says lightly, tapping his axe against the wall.

"Yes, Gimli! Their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf answers, a humorous tone to his voice.

"Why does not that surprise me?" Legolas mutters, and I turn my head to look at him. What's his problem?

"Well, let's see." Gandalf runs his hand up and down the wall. Slowly faint lines appear like slender veins of luminous silver running through the stone. I can't make out the pattern, and I squint to see better.

"Ithildin," Gandalf says softly. "It mirrors only starlight and moonlight." As on cue, the clouds part and the moon comes out, casting a silvery glow over the land. The lines are getting broader and clearer, and I soon see a glowing arch of interlacing ancient letters and symbols grow from the stone. It's mesmerizing, and I step closer.

"It reads, 'The door of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter." Gandalf says, and I can practically feel the tension growing.

Merry breaks the silence. "What do you suppose that means?"

"It's quite simple," Gandalf answers confidently. "If you are a friend, speak the passwords and the doors will open." He raises his arms and starts chanting something.

My feet are sore, and I sit down on a large boulder, resting my elbows on my knees. I notice Sam is packing up pots and pans, watching sadly as Aragorn un-saddles Bill. A large splash causes me to jump, and I took away from Aragorn and Sam to see that Merry and Pippin are tossing stones into the lake. Rippling rings appear on the glossy black surface, and another shiver goes down my spine. Pippin raises his arm to throw another stone, but Aragorn grabs his arm.

"Do not disturb the water," his voice is low and ominous.

I look back at Gandalf to see if he's had any luck with opening the door. It would appear he hasn't, since he's sitting next to Frodo. He's looking a bit gloom, and I wonder what we'll do now. Then, Frodo stands up and looks at the glowing lines with comprehension.

"It's a riddle. Speak friend, and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon," Gandalf replies, and the word has barely left his lips before the rock face silently divides in the middle and two doors swing outwards. I peer inside from my spot on the boulder, but all I see is darkness. Everybody gets to their feet and with Gandalf leading us we start to walk inside. I stick close to Aragorn; the feeling in my stomach I can't really identify still at large.

There's absolute silence until Gimli's voice breaks through the darkness, making me jump. "Soon, master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves; roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin...and they call this a mine..." He snorts. "A mine!"

Suddenly the top of Gandalf's staff starts to glow, casting light over the chamber. I nearly scream when the light hits the ground. There are skeletons everywhere, embedded with arrows and axes. I stumble backwards in horror, and collide with Aragorn. He steadies me, and in the split of a second draws his sword.

"This is no mine," Boromir says grimly. "It's a tomb."

Gimli starts to wail, repeatedly denying what's he's seeing. I stand as frozen, my eyes fixed on the skeletons in front of me.

"Goblins!" Legolas suddenly bursts out, and I feel Aragorn grasp my shoulder as we back towards the entrance.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here."

Suddenly a scream of terror is heard, and as I turn my head I see Frodo being pulled to the ground! A long tentacle is wrapped around his ankle and is pulling him back towards the lake. This time I do scream in horror, and I can only stare as Boromir and Aragorn cut their way through tentacles to free Frodo.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf yells, but I can't get my feet to move. The others are running into the mine again, and someone pulls on my arm and practically tosses me into the chamber. A loud noise is heard, and I watch in horror as a ton of rocks seals the doorway. It turns pitch black, and I stifle a cry. Tears start to leak from my eyes, and when I try to take a step I trip and fall down on my butt. I'm close to breaking down, but I know I have to keep it together. I don't want to be a burden. A pale hand appears before me, and I grasp it. I allow him to pull me to my feet, and then I'm face to face with Legolas. His eyes speak of worry.

"Mind your step," his voice is low.

Then a faint light comes from Gandalf's staff, casting an eerie glow over his face. "We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard, there are older and fouler things than the Orcs in the deep places of the world."

Orcs? What are Orcs? I dare not ask as we start to walk; I'm busy trying _not _to walk on any skeletons. I'm mostly successful, and the times I do feel the bones break underneath my feet I cringe.

"Quietly, now. It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed."

We continue up a steep stair, and I fear I might lose my balance and fall backwards. The only light is the faint glow from Gandalf's staff, and the light it provides is barely enough to see the faces of my fellow travellers. As we reach a new platform, the path splits into three passages, each one disappearing into dark tunnels.

Gandalf stops. "I have no memory of this place."

I sit down as Gandalf ponders on which way to go, and pull my knees up to my chest. Despite my efforts to keep them at bay the tears swimming in my eyes flood over and fall down my face. I can't help it, I feel so drained. I hear Merry and Pippin talking, Boromir quietly muttering to himself and Gimli's despair. A sob escapes from my tightly shut lips, and I bow my head forwards, letting my hair shield me.

I feel a gently hand on my shoulder, and I wipe away my tears before looking up. Legolas stands before me, holding out a water skin I accept it silently, bringing it up to my mouth and swallowing a few gulps of the cold water.

"Thanks."

"Are you all right?" he asks, his blue eyes looking concerned at me.

I give an unconvincing fake smile. "I'm fine. Just tired."

I see hesitation on his face, like he can't decide whether to believe me or not. Luckily, we're interrupted by Gandalf.

"Ah!" Gandalf says, too brightly for this dark place. "It's that way." I stand up and move to join the others.

"He's remembered," Merry's tone is relieved, and I can't help but to agree with him.

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down there. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose!" He lets out a small laugh, and we walk down the right hand tunnel. I wonder what lies ahead of us. I feel someone watching me, and when I look over my shoulder my eyes meets Boromir's. His gaze makes me shiver, and not in a good way. I try to ignore him and walk closer to Gandalf. There is a feeling of fear in my stomach, and every nerve ending in my body is screaming danger. It's stifling, the cold has given away for a warmer temperature, but the air is stale.

"Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf taps his staff, and suddenly a bright light comes out of it, lighting up the area we're in. "Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!"

I gasp, my eyes taking in all the splendour. I've never seen anything like this before in my entire life! The ceiling is so high I can barely see the top of it, and there are huge stone pillars holding it up. A large empty hallway stretches out in front of us, its black walls polished and smooth as glass. I'm sure my eyes are as large as saucers as I look around. The craftsmanship to make something like this must have taken hundreds of years! I suddenly hear Gandalf call out Gimli's name, and I tear my eyes from the ceiling to the rest of our group.

Gimli is running towards a broken wooden door. There is a narrow shaft of sunlight in the empty chamber we're in now; it's coming from a hole near the roof. The light falls directly onto a stone table standing in the middle of the room. Gimli falls to his knees and starts to sob. I look around the room, noticing that there are two different types of skeletons. Goblins and Dwarfs. They must have been here for a really long time.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria. He is dead, then. It's as I had feared," Gandalf reads from an inscription on the tomb. An eerie feeling is coming over me, and I shiver. I hear the crackling of old pages being turned, and see Gandalf with a very old book in his hands. It looks almost rotten, and is covered in blood. He starts to read, and the words sends chills down my spine. "_'They have taken the Bridge and the second hall: we have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. Will no one save us? They are coming.'_"

A crash is heard, making me jump. I look over at Pippin, who is standing by a well I've completely overlooked so far. What sounds like a bucket or a helmet is going down the well, echoing in the walls. A rusty chain follows, and lastly a large skeleton that was sitting on the edge of the well. Pippin flinches with every sound, and I feel sorry for him.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf calls out angrily.

I step back against the wall; this place is giving me the creeps and I can't wait until we leave. Then everybody stiffens. The sound of a drum is heard. The drums get louder, and faster. My heart is beating as fast as the drums now, and I look to the others to try to figure out what's going on.

At Sam's call of his name, Frodo unsheathes his sword, which is glowing blue. A screeching is heard.

"Orcs!" Legolas spits, and panic rises up inside me.

Boromir runs to the doors. Two arrows fly past his head, narrowly missing him, and stick into the door. I bite back a scream.

"What exactly are these Orcs?" My voice is shrill with panic.

"Get back, and stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn calls out towards where I'm standing with the Hobbits. I look at the others, swords drawn by three, Sam holding a frying pan. I suddenly realize I'm without a weapon, and I look around the ground for something, _anything_, that I can use. I find nothing, the only weapons I see are arrows and large axes. In panic, I look up towards Aragorn for help, but he's busy helping Boromir barr the door shut.

"They have a cave troll!" Boromir groans, drawing his sword.

Legolas throws axes to them to barr the door. Gandalf draws his sword. The Hobbits copy. The doors are being battered. My knees are shaking so badly I can barely stand. Suddenly Legolas is by my side and presses a long sword in my hand before rushing back to Aragorn and Boromir. I grip the sword tightly, my knuckles turning white. The steel in my hands is heavy, and I pray with everything in me that I will be able to swing it if necessary.

Gimli gets up on Balin's tomb. "Agh!" He roars. "Let them come! There's one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath."

The door is battered down, and these vile looking creatures come through! I scream in terror, more afraid than I've ever been in my entire life. Their stench is enough to make me gag. While I feel like I want to jump into the well after the skeleton Pippin pushed, I stand my ground, the heavy sword raised in front of me.

An orc comes towards me, and I recoil before attempting to hit the orc with my sword. I miss, and prepare myself to get skewered when someone grabs my arm, pulling me behind them. Its' Gandalf, and he kills the orc easily, causing black blood to spill out on the ground.

The large troll enters, a broken chain around his neck, and I freeze in terror. He's bashing the walls with his fists, roaring in the meantime. An arrow embeds itself into the troll's chest, and I see Legolas reloading his bow. The troll sees Sam and raises its club above his head to strike him, but Sam dives through its legs, confusing it. Aragorn and Boromir pulls on the chain around its neck

"Pull!" Aragorn shouts.

I can hardly see the rest of the battle; everything is in chaos, and Gandalf seems pretty hell bent on defending me, since I can't do it myself. He keeps me behind him at all times, killing orc after orc. I finally get a glimpse of the room in front of me, just in time to see the troll plunging a wooden stake into Frodo's chest. I scream. Frodo gasps. Gandalf turns around. The troll snorts, and within the second Merry and Pippin are charging at it, swords at the ready.

"Frodo!" Sam's heartbreaking howls chill my bones.

I follow Gandalf as he fights his way over to Frodo. Rage like I've never felt before surges through me, and I scream out as I swing my sword at the orcs coming in my way. To my right, the troll gives a groan as Legolas fires an arrow directly into its mouth. Aragorn crawls over to Frodo as Sam watches on.

"Oh no!" Aragorn's broken whisper shatters my heart. Tears form in my eyes, but I brush them away, along with the sweat on my forehead. Trying to control my heavy breathing, I drop the heavy sword on the ground. Aragorn turns Frodo over. He gasps and groans, holding his chest.

"He's alive!" Sam breathes a sigh of relief.

Frodo sits up and looks around** "**I'm all right." His eyes meet mine, and I think I try to smile. "I'm not hurt."

The relief that flows through me blocks out the sound of the others talking; all I can focus on is that Frodo is alive. A screeching sound alerts me back to the present, and I look at the others in panic. What now? Aren't orcs and a cave troll enough?

"What's going on?!" I exclaim, my voice frantic.

Gandalf's frightened blue eyes meet my own. "To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

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	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Here's another chapter, and I would love it if more people reviewed.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except for my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 4

Within a second, everybody is on their feet, and we run. I run as fast as I can, not wanting to look behind me, afraid of what I might see. It's a futile attempt, because orcs are swarming everywhere, climbing out of cracks in the floor, out of the roof and down the great columns I admired not long ago.

Then, we're completely surrounded. Aragorn presses me behind him, and I realize in that moment that I left the sword inside the chamber. My stomach drops down to my feet, and I feel sick as I look out on the orcs. Their battered faces as they screech and hiss will no doubt give me nightmares. I feel my body freeze up again as a great roar is heard from an archway. The orcs look around, worried before they screech and scatter, which doesn't really sit well with me. If something is scaring the orcs, it's probably not a good thing.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asks, stunned

Gandalf closes his eyes and sighs, like he's thinking hard, and then opens them again. "A Balrog, a demon from the ancient world." I glance at Legolas, noticing the widening of his blue eyes. It seems like he's the only one, except Gandalf, who knows what a Balrog is. "Its foe is beyond any of you. RUN!"

Once again, I have to run for my life. My lungs are burning, and so are my legs, but I dare not stop. I will not stop! Boromir is charging ahead, and nearly falls down as he teeters at the edge of the stairs and cliff. Legolas pulls him back just in time, saving him from a horrible death against the stones.

To the right is the stairs that lead to the bridge, and we run down the steps, which is winding towards the bridge. Suddenly there's a large gap in the staircase in front of us; too wide to simply step over. Legolas nimbly jumps the gap and looks expectantly at the rest of us. Another roar is heard.

"Gandalf!" Legolas beckons, and then catches Gandalf as he jumps. He looks to me next, and I use some of my last strength to get my legs to command me. But I jump too short, and I feel my heels scraping along the edge of the stair. I scream, and then I'm propelled forwards and Legolas pulls me to safety.

Arrows is coming in from every direction, only narrowly missing Boromir and the Hobbits. I'm feeling dizzy, and like I might throw up. It's so hot, and I wipe my sweaty forehead. The others jump over, leaving only Aragorn and Frodo on the other side. I find that I have lost my voice; otherwise I would have shrieked as a falling piece of wall strikes the staircase they are standing on, causing it to quake sideways.

"Lean forward!" Aragorn calls out, his hand on Frodo's shoulder. With their combined weight they manage to get the staircase toppling forward, and they jump the rest of the way.

As we run down the remaining staircase, the part of the staircase we were standing on collapses completely, falling into the chasm. The reality that staying only a few seconds more would have resulted in our deaths makes me feel even sicker.

"Over the Bridge!" Gandalf bellows. "Fly!"

The narrow bridge we're now running across is one I would have refused to even step foot on if I hadn't been running for my life. I don't know if I should look down on my feet as to not miss the narrow ledge, or look straight ahead. As it is, I stumble as I reach the other side, coming down on my knees. Terrified, my legs not carrying me, I crawl the fastest I can towards the wall. Tears are streaming down my face, and try my best to wipe them away, since they're impairing my sight.

A second later I wish I hadn't, when I get the first glimpse of the Balrog. A huge black, winged creature with a horned head appears from the midst of the flames. With every roar at Gandalf, he breaths fire. Gandalf stops halfway across the bridge and faces the Balrog.

"You cannot pass!" He bellows. My stomach drops. I vaguely hear Frodo screaming Gandalf's name. The Balrog stretches its wings and draws itself up to full height in front of Gandalf**. "**I am the Servant of the Secret Fire. Wielder of the Flame of Anor." The Balrog reaches down and draws its sword in front of Gandalf, and holds it high above its head. "The dark fire will not avail you." He holds out his staff in front of him, the tip glowing white. "Flame of Udûn!"

The Balrog brings its sword down upon Gandalf who protects himself with his staff, bringing a crash and flash of great light. It drops its sword and roars at Gandalf.

"Go back to the shadow!"

The Balrog steps out onto the bridge, wielding a fiery whip above its head.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf raises his sword and staff high above his head and brings his staff down hard on the bridge. The monster takes another step, and as he does, the bridge collapses and the Balrog falls into the chasm. Gandalf grunts and turns to walk away, and I watch in horror as the tail end of the Balrog's whip snakes up and around his ankle, dragging him down.

"Gandalf!" Frodo calls out in despair.

The look in Gandalf's eyes is one I recognize from the time my horse went through ice; absolute and utter terror. "Fly you fools!" And then he is gone.

"No!" I don't recognize the scream until I realize it's my own. My strength suddenly returning, I spring to my feet and make to run towards Gandalf. I cry and scream when I feel strong arms hold me back, pulling me against a hard chest. I struggle against the arms holding me, clawing at the leather and soft fabric underneath my fingertips. I'm carried towards stairs, pushed against a large archway and out in the open air. Then I'm let down, and I collapse against the ground.

I can't believe it. Gandalf. Dead. No, it has to be some sort of sick trick. Gandalf can't be dead! I bury my face in my hands and sob.

"He's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead." The mantra is muttered through my tears, much like Dorothy's 'there's no place like home'. Oh, if I only could tap my heels and be send home. I want to go home! Were there's no fighting, no death.

"Legolas! Get them up!" Aragorn's voice is heard. The slight waver in his voice is the only indication of his feelings.

"Give them a moment! For pities sake!"

I look up. Boromir is holding Gimli; Merry and Pippin leaning crying against each other; Sam sits alone, tears on his face; Legolas looks forlorn.

"By nightfall this hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!"

A hand reaches out in front of me, and my hazel eyes meet those of Legolas. "We must go." His eyes are swimming with grief, and I accept his hand silently, letting him pull me to my feet. It takes just a few minutes to round everybody up and get going again. A throbbing pain in my right ankle serves as a reminder of my previous stumble, but I bite my lip to not cry out in pain.

It takes longer than it should to get down from the rocky hill and down to the woodlands below, partly because everybody is so tired and drained, and partly because every time I try to push my pace, the pain in my foot slows me down. I could kill for some Tylenol. I wonder what time it is; the sun is low in the sky, and the light blue above us is turning darker, so I'm guessing it's evening. My stomach rumble; I haven't eaten anything for almost two days. Here across the plains it's warmer than it was on the other side of the mountain, so warm it's almost comfortable though I can still feel a chill to the air.

"We rest here tonight," Aragorn stops near some trees, "and keep going at first light. We should reach Lothlórien by midday."

Lothlórien. I remember Gandalf telling me about Lothlórien. About Galadriel, the Lady of Light.

The others are quiet as everybody settles in for the night. Sam lights a fire and takes out his frying pan, preparing dinner. I want to go and offer my assistance, but I feel as though I can't move. I merely sit with my knees drawn up to my chest, staring out into the night. As the warm orange glow of the sun dims and gives place of darkness, I realize just how long I've been sitting there. A hand on my shoulder makes me look up, and I don't even try to smile as I see Aragorn standing there, a plate of food in his hand.

"I'm not hungry," my voice is tired, and I don't recognize the weariness.

He crouches down next to me. "You must eat, Julia. Gandalf would not have wanted you to become weakened."

At the mention of Gandalf, tears pool in my eyes. "He protected me." Aragorn looks puzzled at me. "In Moria. When the troll…" I trail off, wiping away the tears from my eyes. "I couldn't fight, and he protected me. Why would he do that? I'm nothing but a burden to you, anyway."

"Speak not of such things. It is exhaustion and grief marring your thoughts." Once again, he handed me the plate. "Please, eat. Otherwise I fear Merry and Pippin will fight for what is left."

A laugh breaks through my crying, and I accept the plate. "We wouldn't want to encourage them to fight."

"No, I dare say we should not."

He sits quietly next to me as I eat, and while normally I hate having people watching me eat, I find the silence comforting. Only when I have finished eating does Aragorn speak again.

"I know it was Gandalf's intention to let you stay in Lothlórien, once we reached it. The road we must take is very dangerous, even for those of us who possesses fighting skills."

My heart leaps up in my throat. "You're going to leave me?" The notion that they're just going to leave me in some strange place makes me want to cry again. I don't want to leave them. "What am I going to do, just stay in Lothlórien until I die?" My voice rises, and from the corner of my eye I can see the others watching us.

"I do not know what Gandalf's intentions were, nor will I try to. As for your staying in Lothlórien, I will leave that decision to you. Know though that the road that lies ahead of us is filled with dangers greater than you have ever imagined."

"Greater than the Balrog?"

Aragorn hesitates. "I do not know exactly what lies ahead for us, but for the danger. It will not be easy, Julia, I can promise you that."

Voicing something that's been on my mind practically since I came to Middle Earth, I can tell by Aragorn's expression that I've caught him off guard.

"I want to know what's going on. _Need _to know what's going on. I need to know that Gandalf's death wasn't in vain. Why we're all doing this, and particularly what the ring Frodo dropped in the snow have to do with it. I'm not stupid, Aragorn. I realize that something big is going down, and I want to be prepared."

Again, he hesitates. He glances back at the others, sighs, and then turns to face me again. "I never wished to be the one to tell you. I relied on Gandalf to do that, but it seems now that I have no choice. It's not as an insult to your intelligence I have chosen not to tell you before, merely a loss for words. You are right, though. It has _everything_ to do with the ring Frodo is carrying."

It takes him a long time to tell me everything, occasionally pausing to find the right words. By the time he's finished, I'm speechless. I know I should say something, but my mouth opens and closes without a single word coming through.

He stands up. "Try to get some rest; we will all need our strength in the morning."

I stand up to return the now empty plate to Sam, and hiss when the pain in my ankle flares up again. As quickly as I can I put down the plate amongst the others and then get my bedroll ready. I practically fall flat on my ass in an attempt not to put pressure on my foot, and I hear Gimli snicker. I chuckle back; it probably looked pretty funny.

My boots, which have undoubtedly seen better days, are pulled off. I bite back the pain as I pull the right boot off, and examine my ankle. It's swollen, black and blue at the joint.

"Are you hurt?" Legolas suddenly appears in front of me, frowning at me.

"It's nothing, just a sprained ankle."

"May I?" He nods towards my foot, and I eye him warily. What is he going to do exactly? Remembering then what Gandalf told me about Elves and their healing skills, I decide to give it a shot.

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

He looks puzzled, by my expression no doubt, but crouches down in front of me. Carefully, he takes my foot between his warm hands. I bite my lip again, partly because of the pain, and partly because of the way my skin tingle at the contact of his. He runs his fingers over the discoloured skin, pressing lightly into the swollen flesh. I gasp, and his eyes meet mine for a split second before I look down.

"The sprain is only mild," Legolas says softly, removing his hands. "You should be healed within a fortnight."

"Thank you."

He rises, and joins Aragorn to keep watch. I lay down on my bedroll, squirming to get comfortable. My jeans are digging into my stomach, and my once pink shirt is filthy beyond recognition. I don't remember when I lost my jacket. I hope I can get some new clothes in Lothlórien, or at least get the ones I own washed. Turning over to my side, I snuggle up with my blanket. The fire is still burning low; Aragorn and Legolas sitting by it, talking. Their voices are low, and they're speaking the language Gandalf identified to me as Elvish.

Gandalf.

Tears pool in my eyes again when I think of him; out of everyone, I felt most comfortable with him. I don't know how to communicate with the others, especially the Hobbits and Gimli. Promising to myself to try harder, I close my eyes and let sleep overtake me.

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	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 5

I am awoken right after dawn by Gimli shaking me lightly.

"Breakfast is ready, lass," he says gruffly, and I take a few seconds to fully wake up before I join the others.

We eat in silence, and as soon as everybody's finished eating, we pack up and get on our way. Aragorn seems impatient, and I finally realize why Sam calls him Strider. He's not running, but his steps are wide enough to make it hard for both me and the hobbits to keep up.

"Come, quickly!" Aragorn's voice is hasty, excited as we come close to the edge of the woods. The other break into a run, and I try to push past the pain to follow them. Still, I'm the last one as we cross the rest of the meadow and enter the woods. Once in there, the others slow down, which I'm pretty happy about. Though, the quietness and careful steps they take worry me.

"Stay close, young hobbits," Gimli beckons. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods."

I tune him out, instead focusing on the woods. It's beautiful, unlike anything I've seen before, so different from the parks in London. Dark green moss grows everywhere, glittering with dew in the morning sun. Then suddenly, as I look forward, there is once again an arrow pointing directly at my face. I freeze, and back into Boromir. I look around, noticing we're surrounded by elves, all with their arrows pointing directly at us. Legolas has an arrow on his bow string, but Aragorn's hands are up in a sign of peace.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." A blond Elf with similar features as Legolas steps forward. He seems like the captain or commander of the others, since he's the only one not pointing an arrow at us. "You will come with us."

He leaves no room for debate, and we all follow him through the forest. We walk for hours, with no rest and no pauses. Boromir silently offers me his water skin, and I accept it thankfully.

Just before nightfall, we reach a huge tree, and I stare wide eyed at the stairs winding up the trunk. We start to climb up, and I'm relieved that these stairs have handrails. The narrow, steep stairs in Moria has left me scarred, no doubt of it. We finally reach our destination, a huge leaf of a branch. I look over the edge nervously. I wouldn't put it past me to trip and fall over the edge. The blond captain Elf, Legolas, and Aragorn are speaking Elvish, but they seem to be just greeting each other at the moment.

Of course, Gimli, not being a big fan of Elves, takes offence. "So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!"

The captain Elf gives him a look of dismay. "We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days."

"And do you know what this dwarf says to that?" Gimli sneers. He then says something, in Dwarvish I presume, which doesn't really sound very nice.

My suspicions are confirmed when Aragorn slaps his hand on Gimli's shoulder. "That was _not_ so courteous!"

The captain Elf pays them no mind, and instead looks at Sam and Frodo. "You bring great evil with you. You can go no further!"

Aragorn leads the captain Elf away by the elbow and starts to talk avidly with him. I have no idea what he's saying, for he's both talking elvish, and very fast.

"What are they saying?" I ask Legolas, who is standing next to me.

"Aragorn is trying to reason with Haldir that we need their protection." Ah, so Haldir was the Elf captain's name.

"Haldir disagrees?"

"He is captain of the guards; he will do what he feels best for his people." Legolas looks at Frodo over his shoulder, and I follow his gaze. It's because of the ring? Aragorn told me it was evil, sure, but shouldn't Haldir want to help us since we're going to destroy it?

I look out over the woods, and the silvery glow the moon casts on everything. Then I hear Haldir's voice.

"You will follow me."

The hours that follow are uneventful. We set up camp, everyone needing to get a few hours of sleep before continuing walking. I don't know exactly how deep into Lothlórien we're going, but it seems pretty deep. We get up again at first light, and continue walking. Everybody is quiet, even our escort, which makes it even easier for my mind to race. What is going to happen to me as we carry on with this 'quest'? I don't know how to defend myself, and I can't keep relying on the others to keep me safe. I need to learn how to fight, the basics if nothing else.

I blush when my stomach rumble loudly; I didn't have much of an appetite this morning at breakfast, and I'm paying for it now. I am more than slightly shocked when one of the elves flanking us produces a small piece of bread, wrapped in a green leaf, and hands it to me. I accept it with a small smile, and sniff it before I dare to take a bite. It's actually pretty good, tasting similar to pita bread, or maybe pizza dough. I haven't eaten much of the bread before I realize I'm full, and I hand the rest over to Boromir, who's walking beside me.

The golden sun symbolizes another day coming to an end, and I wonder where we'll sleep tonight. I stop alongside Boromir as we come to the end of the high ridge we've been walking on. I gasp as I look out. Below us, under the sunset, a huge glade of trees rises above the world. Rays of light drifting from the branches of tress, casting green and golden light before us.

Haldir sighs, a content sound. "Caras Galadhon, the heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

The stairs we climb at Caras Galadhon are bigger and longer than the previous ones, but I'm so busy looking out over all the splendour around me to care. In the silvery blue glow of the moonlit night, we pass numerous platforms before coming to a great palace in the trees. An archway is in front of us, and I see the silhouette of two people descend towards us, walking hand in hand. When I see their faces, I can't stop the gasp. They are both so devastatingly beautiful they seem to belong in paintings, not in real life.

The male is really tall, and has long silver hair. He seems regal, and I realize it's because he is. This is Lord Celeborn. That means that the female by his side is Galadriel. I look over at her, and meet her pale blue eyes. Her hair is blonde, long and wavy, and there's a silver circlet on her forehead.

The white light dims, and Celeborn speaks. "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, yet not the nine that set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him...I can no longer see him from afar."

My eyes do not longer tear up by the mention of Gandalf's name, but my heart still hurts.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land." Galadriel sounds sorrowful. "He has fallen into shadow."

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth." Legolas does nothing to hide his distaste for the creature responsible for Gandalf's death. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose. Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Galadriel's words are true, and help me with the empty feeling in my stomach.

Boromir turns his pained face to Galadriel, blinking and swallowing hard. She stares back, starlight glimmering in her eyes. Boromir looks away, weeping. It catches me off guard, seeing him cry.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." Celeborn's voice is sad. I want to speak up, to disagree, but I can't find the words. I feel Galadriel's eyes on me. It's unnerving, for I feel as if she can read my mind.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

Giving Aragorn a nervous look over my shoulder, I follow the female Elf who arrived just to tell me to follow her. I don't speak, just follow her quietly. Where is she taking me? We haven't walked long before she stops outside a room, and opens it before gesturing me to go in first. The first thing I see is the sizeable tub standing in the middle of the room, the water steaming slightly.

"You may clean up here. Clean clothing will be provided to you shortly."

"Thank you so much," I beam at the Elf, who smiles back. She gives a small bow of her graceful neck before leaving the room.

I strip down in record time and then sink down into the tub. A sigh pass my lips as my body is fully submerged into the water. Normally, the lack of privacy would bother me, but I can't bring myself to care. Also, despite the glassless windows, we are high enough that someone couldn't just take a peep. The atmosphere is most definitely rubbing of on me, and I find myself starting to hum as I scrub myself Time passes slowly, and I must have lain in the tub for hours, because I don't get up until the water is starting to cool.

I rise, and wring the water from my hair before drying off with the towel provided to me. Making sure I am completely dry, I wrap the towel securely around my body and look around the room. A vanity with a round mirror stands by one wall, and I walk over to it. As I take the first look at myself for months, I can't help but to somewhat expect that I'll look different. But I don't, not really. Same dark hair, same hazel eyes. I look thinner though, probably because of the amount of walking combined with not enough food; my neck and collarbones are more pronounced. A flash of silver catches my eyes and I frown when I realize I'm still wearing my grandmother's pendant. The metal gleams at the base of my throat, and I raise a hand to cover the surface. I lower my eyes, and I gasp when I see the small, round scar on my chest. The sound of a gunshot echoes in my ears, so loudly I almost believe it's real. My fingers trail over the pale scar, the physical reminder of how I ended up here in the first place. A small knock on the door breaks me from my reverie, and I call out a shaky 'come in'.

Several minutes later, I'm on my way down to where the others are staying, dressed in the clothes provided to me and with my hair in a plait down my back. The moss green dress is silky against my skin, and I can't resist running my hands over the skirts. As I reach solid ground, a song sung in elvish reaches my ears, so achingly beautiful that it can only be for Gandalf.

I find the others quickly, sitting around the camp provided for them, along the giant roots of trees. White canopies of silk fabric provide shelter from above, and the grass feels lush and thick underneath my bare feet. I've been promised more clothes in the morning, along with shoes. The others look up when they hear me approach, and I blush at some of their surprised looks.

"My clothes were pretty much unsavable." I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself Maybe it's because I feel kind of naked, even though my dress reaches the ground. I take a seat next to Aragorn, where a plate of fruits, meat and some of that bread I had yesterday is lain out. As I start to eat, the beautiful singing grows louder.

Legolas, who's changed into a fine silver tunic, speaks up, barely louder than a whisper. "A lament for Gandalf."

"What do they say about him?" Merry questions as he continues to set up his bed.

Legolas turns his head to look at him, and for a moment, our eyes meet. "I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near." There are tears in his eyes, and I suddenly want to pull him into my arms and make his sadness go away. Then I shake myself out of it. What the bloody hell was that?!

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks," Sam says, and I can't help but to smile. I wish I would have been able to see Gandalf's fireworks. "There should be a verse about them." After a moment, Sam stands up. He takes a deep breath, as if he's plucking up the courage to do an improvised lament of his own.

"The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green." He's interrupted by a loud snore from Gimli, and his next words are haltering. "Or after thunder…silver showers." Another loud snore from Gimli, which causes an annoyed Aragorn to turn and swat at his midsection. The moment is lost; Sam's courage disappearing. He looks down, and scuffs his feet. "Came falling like a...rain of flowers…" He sighs and squats down again. "Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road," he mutters, disheartened.

"I thought it was beautiful, Sam," I offer, and get a small smile in return. Aragorn rises from beside me, and I follow his form as he walks over to Boromir, who's sitting a distance away. I continue eating, nibbling on a sweet apple. I look up when I hear Legolas' voice.

"May I join you?" he motions to the place Aragorn vacated, and I nod.

"Of course."

He sits down quietly, stretching his long legs out in front of him. The strange feelings I'm only just now beginning to have for him makes me awkward, and I don't really know what to say, or I should speak at all. He seems to prefer the silence, so we just sit underneath the trees while I eat. The lament is still being sung, and I wish I could understand the words.

I study his sorrowful profile as he listens. It seems that here, in safety amongst his kin, he's finally able to show his grief. I don't understand Elves, how they are different from mortals. I know that they are immortal, Gandalf told me so, but I know little else. When I see the sorrow across Legolas' face, I want to; I want to be able to comfort him.

Trying to help in the only way I know how to, and with my heart pounding in my chest, I reach down between us and take his hand in mine. His hand is warm, fingers soft against mine. I squeeze his hand lightly, and he squeezes it back. It makes my heart skip a beat, and my cheeks turn red.

Even after the lament is finished we sit there for a long time, side by side in the darkness, hands clasped tightly together.

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	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your kind reviews! Someone asked how much I'd written on this; and I currently have 23 chapters written, and I will update about every **2-3 days.**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 6

The next two weeks passes by quickly. That first morning after breakfast I approached Aragorn with the request of him training me to fight. I still remembered the helplessness I felt in Moria. I was in pretty good shape physically, but fight I could not. He was more than willing to help, and every morning after breakfast we practised sword fighting for two hours. The rest of the time I spent exploring the woods of Lothlórien, sometimes alone, and sometimes with the company of Legolas, Aragorn or the hobbits. Gimli wasn't very keen on the long walks, and Boromir had barely spoken two words to me since we arrived. From time to time I would catch him watching me, his eyes averting as soon as he saw me looking.

"Mind your feet," Aragorn instructs. "Without good footwork, it is easier for the enemy to throw you off balance."

I grit my teeth and try harder. Sweat is pouring down my forehead, and my hair is sticking uncomfortably to my neck. Finally, after blocking and dodging Aragorn's last three attacks, I manage to get a hit in, causing him to drop his sword. I freeze. He freezes. Then, a smile slowly spreads on his face.

"Well done, Julia. We are making progress, it would seem. Let us stop here and continue tomorrow." He bends down to pick up his sword, and I see the gleam of a necklace around his neck. Sheathing my own sword, we start to walk back to the camp. I ask him about the necklace, and I see some strange emotion pass over his face. Regret? Longing? Sadness? Melancholy?

"The necklace was a gift from Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

I remember Gandalf telling me about Rivendell, and little about Lord Elrond as well. They were Elves. So Aragorn was with an Elvish woman. "Is she your betrothed?" I draw out the last word in a teasing tone. It's not a term I would normally use, but I doubt they understand the term 'girlfriend'. The corners of his mouth rises slightly, but then the sad look overtakes his face again. I feel bad about putting him on the spot like that. "I apologize, Aragorn, I didn't mean to pry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I do not blame you for being curious." He sighs, and our meet. "She is of Elf kin, and I am a mortal. There is no hope in our future." At my puzzled look, he smiles slightly. "Did Gandalf not tell you about Elves?"

"Not much," I admit.

"Elves are immortal. They cannot die from sickness, and they can survive wounds that would kill a mortal man."

Ah, I can now see the problem. Arwen is immortal, Aragorn is not. But still, that couldn't be the only factor, could it? Maybe it was enough of a reason, I don't know. I do notice though that Aragorn seems a bit down, so I quickly change to subject to our training.

He seems pleased with the change of topic, and by the time we reach the camp, I have him laughing, at my expense, as I tell of my feelings during our first lesson. Picking up my dress, I walk off behind the large tree, where I change quickly. I walk unhurriedly back to the camp, rolling my shoulders and trying to get some of the stiffness out. I see Pippin and Merry sitting on a large tree root, smoking their pipes and talking. As I put down my clothes and reach for my comb, I hear raised voices. Looking up, I frown when I see Boromir and Aragorn a few feet away, midst argument. I can't hear what they're saying, but from the look on Aragorn's face, it can't be pleasantries Boromir is spitting at him. Aragorn say what appears to be parting words, and I'm shocked when Boromir looks darkly at me before walking away.

"What's his problem?" I mutter.

"His mind is troubled, growing more suspicious by the day."

I almost jump in surprise. "Jesus Christ!" I look over at Legolas. "Must you sneak up on me like that?"

Arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the tree, a small smile tugs on his lips. "I apologize. I tend to forget that the sound of me approaching is too small for human ears."

"Well, in the future, try to remember, okay?"

"You have my word."

I can't help but to smile at him. "Good." I reach for my comb, and take my hair out of the plait before brushing it. "Do you want to take a walk with me? It still feels like there's so much I haven't seen yet."

"Of course."

I finish brushing my hair and opt to leave it down, before we start walking. The weather is beautiful; blue sky with just a gentle breeze, and the warmth of the sun on us. Birds are singing, and for the first time since my arrival in Middle Earth, I actually feel content.

"Tell me something about where you come from?" Legolas says, eyes curious as they watch me.

"What do you want to know?"

"What is your place? That is, what do you do in your world?"

"I'm a student at the University of London." He looks puzzled. Bloody hell, am I going to have to explain school to him? "University is a school, with teachers, tutors? I don't know what the term is in your language."

"I know what it is; I was merely surprised…." His cheeks redden slightly.

I know why he's embarrassed; it's not hard to figure out. "Surprised because I'm a woman? You can say it, Legolas; I won't be cross with you."

"I know that women do not typically get the same education as their brothers, amongst mortals, unless they are of noble blood."

"Things are different where I'm from," I explain. "School is mandatory for everyone from the age of 5 to 16. After that, there's a two-year education called sixth form, and after that you can choose to go to university, which I do."

"In what field are you studying?"

"I study English." Again, the same puzzled look comes on his face. I stop, and my eyes are wide in surprise. "You don't know English? How can you _not_ know English? We're speaking it right now!"

"No, we're not." Then he starts laughing, a clear and melodic sound that tightens my stomach, and I feel my face heat up.

"Well, I only speak English, how do you explain that?"

"We are speaking Westron, or common-tongue."

I'm baffled. How can I speak a language I don't know?

"I do not know," he answers, and I realize I've been thinking out loud.

"I bet Gandalf would know," I say, and feel my good mood disappear. I feel my head drop, and I study my feet as tears fill my eyes. Warm fingers tilt my chin up, and my teary eyes meet his. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to get so emotional all the time."

"Do not apologize. These are trying times for all of us."

I look away; the intensity in his eyes makes me feel like he can read me like an open book.

"Mae Govannen," a voice comes from behind me, and when I turn around I see Haldir standing there.

"Mae Govannen," Legolas replies, dropping his hand to rest at his side.

"Hello," I greet him, and give him a small smile.

"The Lady Galadriel wishes to speak to you," he's turned to me, making it clear it's me he's talking to.

"Me? Why does she want to talk to me?" I've seen her only a handful times in our two weeks here.

"I do not know. Follow me."

I cast a worried glance at Legolas before I follow Haldir. He's quiet as we walk, which only causes me to become even more nervous. I am taken to a glade, where Galadriel waits. She's dressed in white, and in combination with her blonde hair she's almost luminescent. Haldir leaves, and I stop, not sure what I should do. An ornate stand with a shallow silver basin stands in front of me, and there is a gleaming in the water that causes an intense longing in me to look down into the water

"Will you look into the mirror?" she asks, and I jump slightly at the sound of her voice. She turns to face me, and I see a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"It's a mirror? What will I see?"

"Even the wisest cannot tell." She looks expectantly at me, and I carefully step forward. The water is glittering even more as I lean over the basin. Then I gasp, for in the water an image appears. It's me, lying in a hospital room. There's a tube in my mouth, and my eyes are closed. Two figures sitting by my side causes a cry to rip through me. My mum and dad are sitting by my bedside; mum holding my hand tightly in her own, and dad has his arm around her. Mum leans her head on dad's shoulder, and I can see by the shaking of her body that she's crying. I reach out my hand, but the moment it touches the glossy surface, the image disappears.

"No!" I look up at Galadriel. "Is that what's happening in London right now?" My voice is shrill, and I feel panic rise up inside me. I can't believe this is happening!

"I do not know what you saw, nor do I know the circumstances of it."

"Then why show me?"

"You will know when the time comes."

A few minutes later I'm walking back to the camp, my mind in a jumble. What did it mean, the image I saw in the water? Was that really what was happening back home? Home. I frown. Was it really home? I cannot say that I was miserable, but I wasn't truly happy there either. I went to school, I worked, I slept. That was pretty much my entire life. My friends were few, and in the last few months I'd found myself withdrawing from them.

"Julia?" I look up to see Aragorn standing in front of me, brows furrowed. "Are you unwell?"

I shake my head and force a laugh from my throat. "No, I was just thinking. Is it lunch yet?"

I put on a cheery façade as I join the others, but my mind is still troubled. Pippin entertains us through lunch by showing us a scar he got when he fell out of a tree when he was younger. I in turn show them the scar on my arm I got when my brother pushed me when I was ten.

"How did you get that scar?" Pippin points to the round scar barely visible over my neckline, and the laughter dies in my throat. I can hear my blood boiling in my ears, and the sound of the gun being fired in me.

"It's from, uh, how I ended up here, in Middle Earth. I was shot."

"With an arrow?" Merry asks, wincing.

"No, with a gun." Puzzled faces look back at me, and I take a breath before explaining in simple terms what a gun is. Everyone's silent; I can clearly hear the wind playing in the trees. "Excuse me." I set down my plate next to me and rise to my feet. Telling my story digs up a lot of memories of that night, memories I've tried to repress.

I don't go far, just around to another tree where I sit down on the roots, hugging my knees to my chest. I rest my cheek on my knee and close my eyes. I still remember the feeling of being shot; the pain, the numbness. Falling down on the ground and realizing I was going to die.

I hear footsteps, and Aragorn's boots come into my line of sight. I sit up fully, lean back against the tree, and look up at him. "I just needed a moment for myself, I'll come back soon."

"I truly am sorry, Julia, for what you have endured."

"Thank you." I stand up, and brush out my skirt. "Do you mind if we do another training session this afternoon? I have some energy I need to be rid off."

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	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: **So, reviews dropped significantly the last chapter, which kind of sucks. I hope this chapter suits y'all better :) On with the show.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but for my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 7

Aragorn approaches me that night as I'm getting ready for bed. He looks indecisive. "We are leaving Lothlórien in the morning. You must decide whether you wish to stay here, or go with us."

"I'm going with you," I say with absolute certainty. There's no way I'm staying here, no matter how lovely it is.

"So be it," Aragorn nods, and goes to his own bed.

Even as I lay down make myself comfortable, I cannot sleep. My mind is racing with what tomorrow will bring. I toss and turn for hours, until I admit defeat and get up. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. I need the sleep, there's no doubt about that, but it's impossible. I decide to go for a short walk to clear my head.

While it's not cold, there's a chill in the air that makes me wrap my arms around myself in an effort to stay warm. The moon lights everything enough so I can see, and I frown when I see the silhouette of Legolas leaning against a tree. He doesn't look up when I approach, though he's no doubt heard me. I take a stand next to him, leaning up against the trunk of the Mallorn tree behind me.

"Your mind is restless," he says, his voice low.

"Yeah, I can't seem to relax enough to sleep. What about you?"

I see a half-grin form on his face. "Elves do not sleep. Not in the meaning of Men, at least."

"How do Elves sleep, then?"

"My mind I can rest at will, even when I'm marching. My body I rest similarly as Men do, albeit not as deep of a sleep."

"Oh." I fall silent, and start to fiddle with the end of my plait. "Do you know which way we will be taking tomorrow?"

He turns his head and looks surprised at me. "You are coming with us?"

"Well, yeah. I haven't been training sword fighting for the last two weeks for nothing, you know."

"Forgive me. I was merely surprised. As for our road, we will be travelling on the river Anduin."

"So we'll go by boat?" His nod confirms my question. "I hope I don't have to row, I'm terrible at it."

Legolas gives a low laugh. "I do not think you're going to have to row, Julia."

I want to laugh, to lighten the situation, but something occurs to me, something I haven't thought about before. "Legolas, may I ask you something?" He nods slightly, and I search for the right phrasing before speaking my question. "Do you think it's selfish of me to want to come with you? I mean, I'm not even a fraction as good of a fighter as the rest of you, won't I just slow you down and be a burden?"

A thoughtful look appears in his eyes. "I cannot say. You are faster than the Dwarf, and stronger than the Hobbits. Your training may have been brief in comparison, but I do think that you will be able to hold your own."

"I hope so." I sigh. "I should try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Legolas."

He bows his head slightly. "Goodnight."

I walk back to the camp, and this time when I lay down on my bed, I fall asleep.

The sound of the waves breaking against the boat is peaceful as we start the rest of the journey. Gimli is sitting in front of me, Legolas behind my back. Resting my chin on my hand, I think back to this morning.

_I woke earlier than usual; the sun was barely up when we all began to get ready. The clothes given to me fit perfectly; a knee length tunic, a suede jerkin, leggings and boots in varied green and brown hues. _

"_Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," Lord Celeborn had said as cloaks were fastened around our necks, the brooch shaped like a leaf with silver-veins alongside the green. "May these cloaks shield you from unfriendly eyes."_

My fingers come up to rest against the brooch, the metal cool against my fingers. I'm pulled from my thoughts by Gimli sighing.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Haugh, henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

I stifle a laugh at the love-sick sound to his voice, and look back at Legolas. His expression tells me he's fighting a laugh too, though he's more successful than me.

"What was it?" He says, no sign of laughter in his voice.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three." Gimli sighs again, and a small chuckle leaves my lips. My mind once again wanders, to my own conversation with Lady Galadriel.

_I couldn't help but to smile as I watched the others receive their gifts. Legolas' awe stricken face; Merry and Pippin's worried ones; Sam's joy but slight longing to those shiny daggers. I could feel Lady Galadriel's eyes on me, and I met her gaze. _

"_I can ask for no more than I have already been given, my Lady," I said, feeling my cheeks flush. Other than my clothes, boots and a comb I'd also been given a small plant in a leather pouch, its purpose to stop my periods. It was a good thing, because I hadn't given it a single thought until it was pointed out to me by the same Elf who delivered my clothes. _

"_It is not a question of asking, but of giving," she replied. From her hands she suddenly produced a thin sword, which gleamed in the early morning sunlight. _

The sword is now resting at my side in the boat, and I can't stop my fingers from caressing the handle lightly. It's a beautiful sword, and I can't help but to feel a bit undeserving of its beauty. I don't even know how to use it properly. I've made progress in my training, or so Aragorn says, but I know that when it really counts, I'll probably freeze up. The memory of Moria runs through me, causing a chill down my spine.

I don't know for how long we glide along the glossy surface of the river, but I don't really mind. It beats walking, that's for sure. I've never really been on a boat before, so this is another new experience. Depending on how long I'll be here, there are things I'll never get to do again. Write an e-mail to my brother; ride a bike; go dancing; eat chocolate. I can't help the sigh that leaves my mouth as I think about chocolate.

"Everything all right, lassie?" Gimli's rough voice distracts me from my thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine. A bit homesick, but otherwise fine."

"What do you miss the most?" Legolas' says, his voice soft and calm.

I chuckle, letting my hand fall over the edge of the boat to touch the cool water. "Mundane things, really. Hot water. A real bed to sleep in," I chuckle.

"What about your family?"

My good mood disappears in a flash. My chest hurts when I think of them. I guess that Legolas notices the way my shoulders hunch, because he is quick to apologize.

"I did not mean to upset you. Forgive me."

I think I feel the back of his fingers against my shoulder, but dismiss the thought. "It's okay." I decide to change the subject. "Any idea how long we'll follow the river?"

They are arguing again, Aragorn and Boromir. We paddled until it began to get dark, and then set up camp on a small island. I'm setting up my bedroll when I hear Boromir's voice, sounding upset and a bit mad. I don't catch everything they're saying, but I make out something about Minas Tirith. Then his words get louder, and I look over towards them.

Boromir is grabbing Aragorn's arm, and the look on his face is almost frantic. "You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows! Scared of who you are, of what you are." He lets go of Aragorn, who turns away.

Then, he turns back. "I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city." His tone is nothing I've heard from him before, and it unsettles me. Aragorn walks pass me, and I can almost feel the tension coming from his body. I look back, and meet Boromir's eyes. He's staring at me, and I look away quickly.

It's amazing how hungry you can get from just sitting in a boat all day. When Sam places a plate full of food in front of me, I realize how famished I am.

"Thank you, Sam. It looks delicious." I say, and Sam gives me a small smile. Boromir, who I just notice is standing behind Sam, scoffs. I look up at him and frown. "Do you have something to say?"

"Maybe you should not let the hobbit do your work. Make yourself useful for once."

If I wasn't sure something was wrong with him, that comment would have earned him a slap. As it is, I simply give him what my brother so affectionately calls "the bitchbrow". Boromir takes a plate and goes to sit a bit away from the fire. I merely shake my head and give Sam a reassuring smile to show I'm okay before I start to eat.

"Is everything all right?" Aragorn stands before me, hand on his sword. He looks over at Boromir, then back at me.

"It's fine. Just Boromir spewing out some misogynistic stuff about how I should do the cooking because I'm a woman. It's nothing I haven't heard before."

"If you're certain." He sits down, angling his sword up as he does so.

"Something is wrong with him, isn't it?" I ask, my voice too low for anyone but Aragorn, and maybe Legolas, to hear.

Aragorn sighs. "I fear so. The ring is affecting us all, thought apparently some more than others."

I haven't thought about it before, but at Aragorn's words I can feel a clenching in my stomach. I glance over at Frodo, who's sitting and staring into the air. A low murmur, the same murmur I heard on our way up to Caradhras, reaches my ears. I realize it's the ring.

Later, when I'm getting ready for bed, Boromir approaches me. I halt in my movements, and look expectedly at him. In the corner of my eye, I see both Aragorn and Legolas watching us.

"I apologize for my earlier remark. I was out of line, and I hope you can forgive me." He looks remorseful, and he's wringing his hands.

"I forgive you. Just don't let it happen again."

A look of relief comes on to his face. "Of course. Good night, Julia."

"Good night, Boromir." He walks to his bedroll, and I continue getting ready. I remember to chew a bit of the plant given to me for my periods, and rack my brain to remember if I'm supposed to take the next batch in the morning or tomorrow night.

Once the fire is out and everybody is sleeping, I suddenly find myself wide awake. Sighing, I sit up and run my hand through my hair. If I wasn't such a scaredy cat I'd explore the island a bit, but I settle for just getting up and walking down to the water. As I stick my toes into the water, I'm surprised by how warm it is. There's a light chill to it, but just enough to be refreshing. Looking back at the camp where the others are sleeping, I make up my mind.

I fasten my hair in a bun on the top of my head, and then reach for the bottom of my tunic. I pull it over my head and lay it on the edge of one of the boats. The slight chill in the air makes my nipples pebble. I reach for the fasting on my leggings, and pull them down over my butt and let them fall to the ground, and then I'm as naked as the day I was born. I place the leggings with my tunic before I wade into the water. The moon casts a silvery glow over the water, making it glitter. I feel like a water nymph or something. Before long, I'm up to my waist in the water, and I stop for a second just to enjoy the atmosphere along with the slight sound of the wind. Then I hear a twig breaking behind me, and in a flash, I dunk down to my neck. I look behind me, but see nothing,

"Don't be so skittish, Jules," I laugh to myself "There's no one there." I swim for quite a while, enjoying the way the water feels against my naked skin.

When the refreshing feeling has given away for actual chills and goosebumps, I know it's time to get up. I don't have anything to dry off with; instead I just pull my clothes over my wet skin. The tight bun is starting to give me a headache, so I let my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers as I walk to the camp.

Fingers brush against the back my shoulder, and I stifle a scream. My heart pounding, I turn around. Legolas stands behind me, and I feel my heart race even more. Did he see me in the water?

"Legolas! You scared me."

He smiles slightly. "Forgive me, Julia. I did not mean to startle you."

"It's okay, I get a bit jumpy in the dark. Have, uh, you been awake for long?" I try to read his face for any signs, but find none.

"No, I just awoke. My mind is well rested. Are you having trouble sleeping?"

I nod, and at the same time stifling a huge yawn. "I did, but it seems I'm now tired. I'm going to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well," he say with a slight of his head.

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Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Don't have much to say actually. On with the show.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 8

I am awoken by laughter, and I barely have time to sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes before Merry comes stumbling over my legs, landing on his butt. He looks up at me, a cheeky grin on his face as he stands up and go back to his seat.

"Huh?" I look from Merry, to where Pippin and Gimli are sitting. I'm still half asleep, so I don't really understand why they start laughing. I look to Aragorn for an explanation, but he only shakes his head as he laughs. I stand up, stretching my body and hearing a few bones crack. I've gotten quite used to sleeping on the ground, but it's not exactly comfortable. I take a few moments before breakfast to go down to and splash some water on my face and neck. It really sucks not being able to shower every day, and I don't even want to know how bad I smell.

Pippin and Merry seem to have calmed down a bit, and they're eating their breakfast in silence. I don't start eating right away; instead I pick up my comb and brush out the tangles in my hair. Some of it has caught in the clasp of my necklace, and I flinch with every new section I get tangle-free.

"Does it mean something?" Pippin breaks the food induced silence. "Your necklace, I mean."

I lightly touch the pendant with my fingertips. "It symbolizes the circle of life. It belonged to my grandmother; she gave it to me before she died."

"Ah, so it's family heirloom? We Tooks are known for passing things down through generations."

Pippin keeps us entertained through breakfast with his stories, Merry chipping in every once in a while. I laugh at their storytelling. It feels good to laugh; I can't really remember the last time I did. I turn to get some more bacon, and find Legolas looking at me, an unfamiliar look in his blue eyes. I find myself being drawn into his gaze. Then Gimli burps, and the spell is broken. I look away, my cheeks burning. I dare not look in Legolas' direction again.

"How much longer are we going to travel on the river?" I ask Aragorn in an attempt to distract myself. I might be crazy, but it's like I can still feel Legolas looking at me, though my back is to him. Internally, I am scolding myself. This means nothing. It's just curiosity because he is an Elf. But why didn't I react to Haldir the same way, a small part of me wonders.

"Not much longer, a couple of hours at the most." He looks almost amused as he stars eating.

Suddenly not hungry any more, I rise to pack my things. We leave soon after, and it seems like the hobbits' storytelling has lifted Gimli's spirit. He talks animatedly about the ways of the Dwarves as we glide along the river. I feel as if the mood is lighter than it was yesterday, as if the horrors that lie before us are temporarily forgotten. Or maybe they aren't forgotten, just pushed back in everyone's mind so we will not go insane. There's only so much sadness and worrying one can take.

Gimli's reciting of the history of Dwarves reminds me of the hostile conversation between him and Haldir in Lothlórien. "Dare I ask where the animosity between Dwarves and Elves come from, or will it only result in a quarrel?" I chuckle, and I see the tips of Gimli's ears burning red.

"It would probably be best to leave that matter alone," Legolas says, and I don't need to turn back to know he is smiling.

I look over at the other boats, noticing Boromir's tense face. I frown. Something isn't right with him. I wish I knew what it was, so I could try to help him. Despite his less than stellar behaviour towards me, I do count him as a friend.

I feel Legolas tap me on the shoulder. "Julia, the Argonath!" I follow his gaze straight ahead, and gasp in wonder.

"It's amazing!" I whisper, in awe of the craftsmanship I see before me. Two majestic statues, carved right out of the rock that tower high above us on both sides, stands proudly on each side of the river. They both have their left arms raised in front of them; palms facing outwards like a warning. The knot in my stomach grows more pronounced. It feels like something bad is about to happen, but I don't know what.

Our rowing never falters, and we soon sail past the statues towards a roaring waterfall. For a moment I fear we're going to sail right down the waterfall, but then we divert to the right, and disembark on a beach. The gravel crunches underneath my feet as I step out of the boat and onto the beach. I am feeling slightly wobbly; I haven't gotten my sea legs yet.

"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north," Aragorn says, and I halt for a moment. Mordor. From what Aragorn has told me of it, Mordor not a place one would like to visit. Still, that's where we're going. Lucky me.

"Oh, yes?!" Gimli says, his voice a dull road. "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" I look over at him, brow furrowed. I notice Pippin looking frightened at Gimli. "Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!"

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my…?! Phrrrrr…" Gimli scoffs. I turn back to my half-made bedroll, and continue setting it up. I think about helping Sam with the food, but before I can offer him my assistance, Merry's voice is heard.

"Where's Frodo?"

I look alarmed towards Frodo's empty bedroll. He was right there just a second ago, wasn't he?

"Let's split up," Aragorn commands. "Gimli, stay with Sam. Legolas, go with Julia. Merry and Pippin, come with me."

Legolas nods slightly, and then turns to me. "Get your sword."

I pick it up from my bedroll quickly, and fasten it in my belt as I walk towards Legolas. We waste no time, but start walking immediately. We walk in silence, both our minds occupied. The knot in my stomach that has been present the entire day is now so tight my stomach hurts.

Suddenly Legolas stops, causing me to walk with into him. The apology dies on my lips as I see the look in his eyes. It's obvious his enhanced hearing picks up something I can't hear.

"What is it?" I whisper, feeling my hands starting to get clammy. This can't be good.

He spins around to face me, and the look in his eyes scares me. He looks almost frantic. "Stay here, and do not make a sound."

I would argue with him, but something tells me not to. So I do as I'm told; getting shelter by a large tree, leaning up against its trunk. Legolas runs away swiftly, and soon I hear nothing but my own erratic breathing. I stop breathing, straining my ears in an effort to hear what is going on. A whimper escapes my tightly shut lips. I feel as afraid as a child who has let go of her parents hand in a mall. My knees start to shake, and I try to lock them in place. "I'm not afraid," I repeat over and over again, as a mantra. Tears start to trickle down my face, but I brush them away quickly. I need to try to keep a clear head, since I have no idea what's happening.

I hear loud stomping of feet, and I press my back even further against the tree in fear. The sound of steel against steel reaches me, and I my eyes widen. Battle! I'm torn; not knowing whether to stay where I am or to join the battle. The decision is taken from me when I hear a horn blasting three times. It's Boromir's horn! I have no idea what I'm about to face, but I know I can't leave Boromir if he needs help. I take a deep breath, and then start to run towards where the sound is coming from.

When I reach him, I'm not able to stop myself from screaming at the sight of the creatures swarming around us. They're big, everything about them black, and the most terrifying creatures I've ever seen! One of the creatures starts towards me, sword raised in the air. I'm frozen, my hands shaking. I can't move. The creature comes closer. In my mind, I can already see the swinging of a blade, and the pain of being sliced in half. I close my eyes, and wait for the inevitable.

"Julia!"

Pippin's scream breaks the spell my body is under, and as my eyes shoots open I am able to move again. I barely have time to raise my sword and shield my body before the creature is upon me. The force of the two blades colliding almost brings me down to my knees, and a cry leaves my lips. I push against the blade with all my strength, forcing the creature back a step. As soon as my blade is free I swing it, sinking it deep into the creature's neck. I gag as the creature falls to his knees, black blood seeping from the wound. I stare shocked at it until I realize that more of the creatures are coming at us, and I need to get moving. And so I do; fighting as much as I can, but mostly dodging and evading attacks. Sweat is pouring down my face, getting in my eyes. I might not be stronger or a better fighter than them, but I am smaller and more agile, which works to my advantage.

"Run! Run!" Boromir cries, and I look over at him.

Suddenly he is jerked backwards as a black arrow is embedded in his left shoulder! I freeze; I can't do nothing else but to stare as he falls down on his knees. I can hear his loud breathing, and then he gives a battle cry, rises to his feet and continues to fight. Another black arrow flies into his stomach, and this time I scream. He drops to his knees again, gasping. His eyes meet mine; their grey colour almost overtaken by his dilated pupils. Somehow, he summons enough strength to swing his sword at another creature, and gets back up on his feet. A third arrow hits him, this time in the chest, and when he falls down on his knees this time, he doesn't get up.

Rage like I've never felt before floods through my veins, and the cry that leaves my lips is unfamiliar as I once again raise my sword. I fight as hard as I can to reach Boromir, but to no avail. I scream as I feel arms grabbing my waist and pulling me back. Something grabs my hand and twists my wrist until I cry out in pain and drop my sword, and I trash around to get loose. The creature holding me is pulling me away from the scene, but I can't look away from Boromir's eyes. He looks terrified. I scream his name, making one last effort to get free. Something hits me on the side of the head, and everything goes black.

* * *

Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: **So, I FINALLY watched the Desolation of Smaug on Thursday, and it was bloody fantastic! Can't wait for the next movie! A huge shoutout to my lovely reviewers, you are fantastic. On with the show!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but for my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 9

"Julia!" The voice is muffled, but frantic. I open my eyes, and groan. My head feels like it's been split in two. I look around, and my eyes widen in terror. It's night, and there are vile looking creatures everywhere; not just the ones from before, but other ones I've never seen before. I realize my hands are bound tightly together, and my wrists burn as I move them. "Julia!" I look up and see Merry and Pippin lying next to me.

"Are you okay?" I whisper, nodding to the bloody gash on Merry's forehead.

"It's just a scratch," he says, but his voice is weary. "We've been more worried about you; you've been out ever since they took us."

I groan and lie my head back down against the ground. It's taken almost all my strength just to hold my head up for this short period of time.

"Get a fire going!" One of the creatures roar, and I angle my head up to see what's going on. A bunch of them are going towards the forest, and as they start to chop down trees, a loud groaning noise is heard.

"What's making that noise?" Pippin asks, and I close my eyes. I feel like I'm going to throw up at any second, and I try to focus on **not** doing that, instead of the conversation taking place next to me.

I bite my lip to quench my scream as someone grabs my arm and pulls me backwards. I look over at Merry and Pippin, and see them being subjected to the same treatment. I'm pulled to my feet, and I sway. My nausea is worse now, and I breathe deeply through my nose.

"What about their legs? They don't need those." One of the creatures looks ravenously on our legs. "Oooh, they look tasty."

"Get back, scum! The prisoners go to Saruman. Alive and unspoiled."

"Alive?" The creature leers at me, moving closer. "Why alive? Do they give good sport?"

"They have something, an Elvish weapon. The master wants it for the war."

I glance at the Hobbits; they're looking about as confused as I feel. Then it hits me. The Ring! They think we have the ring! Pippin voices my revelation.

"Quiet, Pip," I whisper frantically.

"Ssh! As soon as they find out we don't, we're dead," Merry bit out.

A murmur behind me pulls me back to the severity of the situation. "Just a mouthful…a bit of the flank." I recoil, twisting my body away from the creature.

The leader, who said we were not for eating, raises his blade and in one sharp movement cuts the head off the creature behind us. I scream as the head topples in between us.

"Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!"

We're pushed away from the scene as the creatures gather around the corpse. I land painfully on my back, my head hitting the ground with a thud. I want nothing more than to curl up and weep, but I can't.

"Let's go…" Merry whispers, and we crawl away as fast as possible.

I cry out when I feel something press down on my back. I'm flipped over on my back, and pale eyes meet my own. A thin blade is pressed against my neck, just shy of drawing blood. "Go on. Call for help." He runs his hand from my hip and up to my breast, squeezing painfully hard. I whimper in pain. "Squeal. No one's going to save you now." A spear is suddenly thrust into the creature's back, and he gives a gargling shriek.

I squirm away; panic overtaking my body as chaos breaks out around the encampment. Men on horseback appear from the dark, shooting arrows and spears at the dark creatures. Very unsteadily, I rise to my feet. I run through the fight, dodging weaponry and soldiers. I stumble over something on the ground, and stumble into the undergrowth at the border of the forest. I land on something protruding from the ground, and an intense pain shoots up my back. Black spots appear in front of my eyes. I become aware of the battle going on behind me, and for some reason I think of Celeborn's words as we left Lothlórien. _"May these cloaks shield you from unfriendly eyes."_ Raising my bound hands above my head, I find the edge of the hood, and pull it over my head. The pain is now worse, and I feel myself slipping out of consciousness.

I wake up to a cry of anguish echoing through the air. I hold my breath; I have no idea who, or what, made that sound. I hear voices, but can't make out the words over the dull roar in my ears. I try to roll over to face yesterday's camp-site, to get a look on whoever is out there. My head is pounding, and I groan as I'm finally able to see out through the bushes. The sight before me makes tears appear in my eyes and start running down my cheeks. Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas stands next to a big smoking pile of dead bodies. I try to sit up, but a dizzy spell hits me and I fall back down.

"Aragorn!" I croak out, my voice raspy and my throat dry. They don't give any indication that they heard me, and a slight panic wells up inside me. "Legolas!" My voice is scarcely higher, but he should be able to hear me. "Help me," I sob. It's no use; they can't hear me. I close my eyes and lay back against the ground, defeat running through my body.

I hear them move, footsteps that are coming closer. The bushes rustle as they are shoved aside, and then I hear someone get down on their knees beside me. "Julia! Open your eyes, please!" My eyes open, and through the tears I see light, green, and blue. I blink the worst of the tears away, and see Legolas sitting next to me, eyes wide with worry. The glint of a blade in the sun appears, and it cuts swiftly through the thick rope binding my wrists. I am gently pulled to my feet, where I sway for a minute before finding my footing.

"Do you have any water?" I croak; my throat rough and my lips chapped and dry. Aragorn is beside me in an instant, a water skin in his hand. I almost choke in my haste to get the water down my throat, but Aragorn stills my hands.

"Easy now."

I take slower gulps, feeling the cool water trickle down my throat. I never thought the taste of water would be so delicious. Once I'm no longer thirsty, I lower the water skin and hand it back to Aragorn.

"Are you injured?" He inquires, his eyes searching my face.

"Not badly," I say, wiping the remains of the tears from my face. "I'll live. What's the plan?"

Gimli chuckles, shifting his axe to the other hand. "You've got spirit in you, lassie."

I give him a weak smile. Truth be told, I'm not exactly feeling my best at the moment; my back hurts, and so does my head. I won't say anything though, I refuse to slow them down further.

"Merry and Pippin went into Fangorn Forest. We mean to follow them," Legolas says. "Do you need to rest?"

I brush him off, shaking my head. "Nothing gives you rest like being unconscious. I'll be fine. So, we're going into Fangorn?"

"Darkness is falling quickly," Aragorn says. "I do not want to risk going blind into Fangorn forest. We will camp here, and continue in the morning."

At his words, I feel the air leave my body, and I practically fall down on my ass. Sitting down, I realize just how tired I am. I want nothing more than to go to sleep. But I might have a concussion, so I need to stay awake. I twist to the side, and gasp when pain runs through my body. I try to take a deep breath, but that hurts even more.

"You are injured." Legolas crouches down next to me. "Where does it hurt?"

I run my fingers down my right side, and flinch when I come to the middle of my ribcage. "I think I bruised my ribs."

"Legolas, could you take a look at it?" Aragorn says as he starts to gather firewood.

"It's no big deal, I've bruised my ribs before. I just need to rest," I try to argue, but the look on Aragorn's face tells me that this isn't negotiable.

Oh, great. I try not to look affected as I stand up and move closer to the fire Aragorn and Gimli are setting up, even though my heart is pounding. Once the fire is lit and I've eaten some Lembas, I know I can't delay it any longer.

"Can we get this over with?" I ask, angling my head towards where Legolas is standing guard.

He turns his head back to look at me, and exchanges a few words in Elvish with Aragorn before standing next to me. When I look into his eyes I feel ashamed of speaking so harshly to him, so I apologize. He brushes off my apology. "You need not apologize. The last few days have taken their toll on us all."

Something in his voice reminds me of how I was captured in the first place. The question I want to ask is on the tip of my tongue, but I'm quite sure I won't like the answer.

"Did Boromir..." I can't bring myself to finish the sentence. Legolas' eyes grows sad, which answers my question. I feel tears rise in my eyes, and I look away into the night. Memories race through my mind, appearing in front of me as real as the breeze on my face.

The clash of Boromir's sword.

The look of shock on his face as the first arrow pierced his body.

The dark colour of the blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth.

My tears turn into full sobs, which hurts like a bitch. I feel a tentative hand being placed on my shoulder, and then I'm being pulled into Legolas' arms. I quench my sobs, taking as deep breaths I can. I am so sick of crying. I take a few seconds to calm my breathing down, and then I step back from his arms.

I reach up to brush away my tears. "Let's do this." Rearranging my braid so it won't be in the way, I carefully roll my tunic up to right under my breasts, holding it there with both hands.

My heart is pounding so hard, I'm sure Legolas can hear it. Gently his fingers run down my side, over my injured ribs. I shiver. I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing as he checks my ribs.

"I do not think think it is broken," he says, removing his hand from my skin.

"Told you," I say in a teasing tone. "I have bruised a rib or two before, you know." I let down my tunic and smoothed it down over my hips.

A rough chuckle to my right alerts me that Gimli is listening to our conversation. "It must be a dangerous place you come from, where young women take injuries so lightly," he says, and I can't help but to chuckle lightly.

"Not really, but I had horses growing up. I used to fall off a lot."

Aragorn comes to sit next to us, and I see a small smile on his lips. Then something passes over his face, and the smile disappears. He once again looks like he's got a heavy burden to bear.

"Let us get some sleep. We leave at first light," he says, and makes his bedroll ready.

I find it hard to sleep. My injured side hurts no matter which way I lie, and my mood turns sombre when I remember Merry and Pippin. Who knows what terrors they have been subjected to? I look out over the dark plains, and see Legolas standing not far away, seemingly lost in thoughts. I remember what he said about sleeping, and if I wasn't so tired I'd get up and join him.

When I think of the talks we've shared, a clutching in my stomach confuses me for a minute before I recognize it. My eyes widen, and I suddenly can't breathe.

Oh no, I'm falling in love with Legolas!

* * *

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	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I'm soo sorry I haven't updated, but I got a virus on my computer and only got it fixed yesterday. I want to give thanks to all my readers, it's because of the interest in this story that I'm even posting it. I never thought I would, and that it would just collect dust (figurately) in my computer. So lots of love to everyone!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 10

Just like Aragorn said, the sun has barely risen above the horizon before we start to pack our things. As I start to go into Fangorn, Aragorn's voice stops me. I look puzzled at him before my eyes lower to his hands, where he's holding a thin sword. I recognize it immediately; it's the sword Lady Galadriel gave to me before we left Lothlórien.

"I could not leave it behind, I knew you would need it."

I resist the urge to hug him, since I can tell he wouldn't appreciate it, so instead I take the sword from him with a nod. "Thank you."

He says nothing, but gives me a small smile. I fasten the sword at my belt, and push my hair behind my ears. Looking to my right, my eyes meet Legolas'. There's a look in them that makes me frown. Is that jealousy? No, it can't be. I must have a concussion or something, since I'm seeing things.

As soon as we enter the forest, a stifling feeling comes over me. This forest is nothing like Lothlórien; the trees are dark, and so tightly spaced that no sunlight can shine through the foliage. The further we go, the more the stifling feeling rises within me. To my left, I hear Gimli make a sound of disgust.

"Orc blood!"

I look to see him spit on the ground, a leaf coated with a dark substance next to him. I feel more than useless; I can't see the tiny tracks from the Hobbits feet, so I'm mostly trying to stay out of the way.

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn mutters, dropping to a crouch and studying the ground.

"The air is so close in here," Gimli says, his voice betraying how uncomfortable he is.

"I know, it feels like I can hardly breathe," I agree.

"This forest is old. Very old. Full of memories..." Legolas says softly, and I turn to look at him. He has a thoughtful look on his face, but soon his brow furrows and he grows tense. "…And anger!" I gasp, and hear Gimli do the same next to me when the trees start to groan. I tighten the grip I have on my sword hilt. "The trees are speaking to each other!"

"Gimli," Aragorn whispers urgently, "Lower your axe."

Gimli is on guard, his axe raised high.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas says solemnly as Gimli lowers his axe. "The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

I look at him like he's crazy. Talking trees? Really? I know this place is weird enough with the Elves and Dwarves and what have you, but talking trees? What on earth do trees talk about? As seems to be happening more frequently recently, Gimli says exactly what I'm thinking.

"Talking trees," Gimli mutters sarcastically. "What do trees have to talk about, hmmm?" He turns to me, and I'm sure the look on my face mirrors his. "Other than the consistency of squirrel droppings!" he jokes, and then lights up in a smile. I can't help but to chuckle too. It is pretty funny, imagining giant trees standing around and complaining about runny squirrel droppings. In the midst of our laughter, we both realize that Aragorn and Legolas have moved ahead of us, tracking, and we start moving quickly.

Suddenly, Legolas darts forward, and says something in Elvish to Aragorn. It doesn't sound like good news, and the fact that his fingers reach for his bow doesn't help the situation. Aragorn whispers something back, sounding nervous.

Legolas's eyes darts back and forth. "The White Wizard approaches."

"The White Wizard? Saruman?!" I whisper to Gimli, and my stomach knots in fear when he nods.

"Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us!" Aragorn breaths with a grim expression. He draws his sword, and I do the same. My hands are shaking, but I will them to be still. I'm mostly unsuccessful. "We must be quick."

My whole body is tense, every muscle prepared to fight. A white light illuminates us from behind, and we all turn around at the same time. I'm blinded by the light, and my sword suddenly becomes so hot that I can't hold it. I drop it to the ground with a cry, and shield my eyes with my hand.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits," says a deep voice from the glow. Something about the voice sounds vaguely familiar.

"Where are they?" Aragorn shouts. He's lost his sword as well, and Gimli his axe.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" the voice responds, sounding a bit amused. Wait, amused? If this was Saruman, why did the others seem to fear him so much?

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn cries.

The white light disappears, but I still see bright spots in front of my eyes. I gradually see a figure in front of me, dressed all in white. My eyes focus on the white staff, equally pale hair and beard, and zoom in on kind blue eyes.

Gandalf's eyes.

I gasp, and my eyes tear up. I see Legolas and Gimli fall to their knees. Only Aragorn stands, as shocked as I am. I hear that they are speaking, but I can't follow along with the words. I'm too overwhelmed. Before I can help myself, I've flown myself into Gandalf's arms. His arms are slack for a moment, and then he hugs me back.

"My dear child," he says, and the calm baritone of his voice is like music to my ears. I pull back, smiling through the tears.

"It's wonderful to see you, Gandalf."

We start to move forwards pretty quickly, following Gandalf. He doesn't seem particularly anxious about the forest, and I feel myself relaxing as well. I walk next to Legolas, and though I don't look at him, I can see him from the corner of my eye.

"One stage of your journey is over, another begins," Gandalf calls back to us. "We must travel to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras? That is no short distance," Gimli grumbles in dismay. From what I've learned, he's not too keen on being on horse back.

"How far is it to Edoras?" I ask Legolas, turning my head to look at him.

"Not two days ride," he replies. He seems very at ease here, and I need to remind myself that he's a Wood Elf. Hence the feeling comfortable in the forest.

"Then we have run all this way for nothing!" Gimli complains. "Only to leave those poor Hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree infested..." The trees start to groan and creak again, and Gimli stops speaking. "Eh, I mean charming, quite charming, forest," he says with a nervous grin. I laugh.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn." Gandalf stops and turns to look at all of us. "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that start an avalanche in the mountains."

I pretend to understand exactly what he's saying, but I don't. Aragorn sees my confused face, and a chuckle leaves his throat.

"I know one thing you have not changed dear friend," Aragorn tells Gandalf, who lowers his eyes from the branches over his head. "You still speak in riddles." They both laugh, and then Gandalf speaks again.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Eldar days. The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."

"Strong?" Gimli asks, giving an uneasy laugh as he, too, gazes up into the trees. "Oh, that's good."

"So, you can stop your fretting, Master Dwarf," Gandalf says sternly. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be!"

"This new Gandalf is more grumpy than the old one," Gimli mutters as he starts walking after Gandalf.

"What are Ents?" I ask Legolas, and I'm starting to feel a bit silly asking questions all the time.

"We call them Onodrim," he explains, "they are tree shepherds, to protect the forest from Orcs and other dangers."

"Oh," I say, and then fall silent. We've now come to the edge of the forest, and as we step into the sunlight, I take a deep breath. It's so refreshing, feeling the sun on my face and a slight breeze in my hair after spending time in the forest.

We stop, and Gandalf whistles a long high loud whistle. I hear a horse neigh, and from the distance a great white horse comes galloping towards us. It's beautiful, and I stand as mesmerized.

"That is one of the Mearas," Legolas says, and he too sounds mesmerized. "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

The horse stops in front of Gandalf, and bows his majestic head to him. Gandalf reaches up and strokes the horse's neck. "Shadowfax. He is the lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers."

"Look!" Gimli exclaims, pointing towards the distance. Two more horses are galloping towards us; one chestnut, and one grey. I recognize them as the horses Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli rode into the Uruk Hai camp site, and which disappeared during the night.

When I look back to Gandalf, he's already sitting up on Shadowfax's back without neither saddle nor bridle. I take a small step towards Aragorn, but he's already helping Gimli up on Hasufel's back. Legolas stands next to Arod, stroking his muzzle and speaking low to him in Elvish. I take a deep breath, and move towards him. Legolas says nothing as I place my foot in the stirrup and heave my self up, wincing at my bruised ribs. They're hurting less and less, so they can't have been bruised badly. I scoot back behind the saddle, and Legolas does an agile jump up in front of me. I grab a tight hold around his midsection as we start to move.

Hours later, we've just eaten and I'm thinking about going to sleep, I'm so tired. Aragorn puts more wood on the fire, and sits down next to me. I continue brushing my hair, thankful that almost all my belongings from Lothlórien survived my taking. Once my hair is tangle free, I put the comb away and turn to Aragorn.

"I need to thank you, for so many things."

He looks a bit embarrassed, and tries to brush me off. "It is nothing, truly."

"But it is. You've been nothing but kind to me since I joined you, and I'm grateful for that alone. The fact that you agreed to teach me to handle a sword is more than I can really comprehend. I'm sure I was a terrible student." This earns me a chuckle, and I continue. "And lastly, thank you for not leaving my sword behind. For having faith that I was still alive. Even I had my doubts for a moment." I give a short laugh, and pull my hair back from my face. "I just...thank you, Aragorn. For being a good friend, and a good brother." I reach over and squeeze his hand. He squeezes my hand back.

"I do not think your gratitude is needed, but if it eases your mind I will accept it."

"Good." I draw back my hand. "I don't want to have to use my sword fighting skills on you. I could hurt you pretty bad."

The look on Aragorn's face is pretty amusing, and I burst out laughing. He joins in, and I laugh until my stomach hurts. "Okay, maybe I can't actually hurt you, but I'm still alive, aren't I? I can't be too terrible."

"No, you are not, Julia," Aragorn says and smiles before standing up and going to stand by Gandalf by the edge of the camp-site

I fasten my hair in a braid before leaning down and picking up the leaf of Lembas lying next to me. I break away a small piece and then put the rest back. I don't want to overeat, like Merry and Pippin did in Lothlórien. I pause before eating it, looking out over the grounds. So we're off to Edoras. I don't remember much that Gandalf told me about Rohan and Edoras, only that they are horse people.

"Do not waste your emotions on such an unsuitable subject."

I look behind me, and see Legolas standing there. I'm surprised by the hardness in his voice and eyes, and it takes me a moment before I realize what he's talking about. Does he think that I'll try to steal Aragorn away from Arwen? That's crazy.

"There are no feelings. I think of him as a brother."

Legolas visibly relaxes, and his gaze softens. "I do not want you to get hurt," he explains himself. I only hum in reply. Something in his voice unnerves me, but I don't know if it's good or bad. Now that I've realized that I love him, I try to hold a bit more distance than before. I don't want him to fall in love with me. Not that I actually thing that he would; he is, after all, an Elf who has undoubtedly met more beautiful and interesting women in his lifetime, both Elf and mortal alike. From what I understood from Aragorn, Elf-Human relationships are rare, very rare.

"You seem deep in thought," a calm voice says, and Gandalf sits down next to me.

"I was just thinking about you," I lie."I'm really happy to see you again, Gandalf," I say, and I can't help but to smile. I don't fully understand how he can be alive, but I credit it to one of the many things about Middle Earth that I don't understand.

"Me too, Julia, me too."

"What's it like in Edoras?" I ask after a few moments in silence, looking into the fire.

"I cannot answer your question, child. Saruman took control over Edoras, and its king, a long time ago."

I frown. "So what are we doing there?"

Gandalf says nothing, just smiles and lights up his pipe. I rest my head on my knees and close my eyes. Gandalf begins to hum a song below his breath. I've almost fallen asleep when I feel a soft hand on my shoulder. I don't need to look up to know it's Legolas, but I do anyway,. His blue eyes gleam in the fire light.

"You can have my sleep roll, I will stand guard."

I smile sleepily. "Thank you." He squeezes my shoulder lightly, and then moves away. I look away from him and back into the fire.

"It seems you have found a friend, and a loyal one as well," Gandalf says, and I feel his eyes on me.

"I count everyone in the fellowship as my friend, though naturally some have become closer than others."

"Indeed." Another ringlet of smoke coils out in the air. "Things are about to change, but do not be frightened when they do. Just listen to your heart, it will not lead you astray."

I looked up at him, frowning. "What does that mean?"

Gandalf chuckles, and our eyes meet. "You will know when the time comes. Sleep now, Julia. Tomorrow will be a long day."

I raise an eyebrow. "Like today hasn't been, or yesterday?"

"True enough," he replies.

Standing up, I squeeze his shoulder. "Goodnight Gandalf."

"Goodnight Julia. Sleep well."

I move away from the fire and towards the bedroll set up for me. I spot Legolas and Aragorn on the edge of the camp-site, deep in conversation. I think I hear my name being mentioned, but I brush that thought away. Gimli is snoring, and I smile before lying down. I close my eyes, and fall asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thank you so much to everyone who reads this little baby of mine. Lots of love to you all!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 11

The next day continues in the same fashion; we start early and ride for hours. I'm on the back of Hasufel now, holding onto Aragorn. We don't stop for lunch, just continue riding. The horses show no signs of fatigue, which I find strange. They gallop alongside Shadowfax, but never go past him. It's like they know he's their king.

Around midday, we stop. A small but beautiful city situated on a hill comes into view in the distance.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf announces, his voice solemn. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong." We continue forward, soon we're just outside the tall wooden gates. "Be careful what you say." Gandalf continued. "Do not look for welcome here."

I frown as we ride through the city towards the Hall of Meduseld. Edoras kind of reminds me of a painting I saw once of medieval England, with its timber houses and thatched roofs, but despite its beautiful appearance it feels cold, and sombre. Black dressed people are watching us suspiciously from outside the houses.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli mutters.

"You can say that again," I agree. We stop at the bottom of long steps that lead up to the Hall, and dismount. I stumble as my feet touches the ground, but green clad arms steady me. They let go and soon as I find my balance. I look back at Legolas, but he doesn't meet my eyes.

We start to walk up the steps, and an eerie feeling comes over me. I rest my hand on my sword hilt. As we come to the top of the steps, the large doors open, and several men in full armour steps out. I arrange myself slightly behind Aragorn when I see their not so friendly faces. I'll fight if I have to, but I'd rather not.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Grima Wormtongue." The man in the middle says.

"Oh," Gandalf sounds surprised, but recovers quickly. He nods at us to hand over our weapons, and I do so reluctantly. I've just gotten my sword back, I don't want to give it up. Also, it feels unnerving to be unarmed, even though I know I wouldn't win in a fight.

"Your staff," the man says, and eyes the white staff in Gandalf's hands.

"Hmmm." Gandalf looks down at his staff, and then I see his posture change. He suddenly looks like a fragile old man, and he's supporting his weight on the staff. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick."

The man hesitates for a second, and then turns to lead us forward. Gandalf winks slyly at me and follows him holding onto Legolas' arm. The rest of us follow, and Aragorn whispers to me to stay close to him.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," Gandalf says as we walk forwards. I look to the sides of the hall, and see menacing looking guards follow us.

I jump when the doors are slammed shut, and I look worriedly back. We're truly trapped now. An old, frail looking man is sitting on a throne in front of us. He's flanked on one side by a pale man with greasy black hair dressed in long black robes. He knees down and whispers something to the king.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Théoden says slowly, his voice confused.

The black haired man nods, and then rises to face us, walking slowly towards us. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear," he spits at us. "Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf commands, and despite the situation I feel the urge to cheer him on. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." He points his staff at him, and the man cowers in fear.

He looks shocked. "His staff," he gasps. "I told you to take the wizard's staff!" He snaps angrily to the guards.

They rush forward, and I muster up every ounce of courage in my body to fight back, to keep them from reaching Gandalf. The men might be larger and stronger than me, but I'm more agile. I dodge every attack they do towards me, and more than once my knee is introduced to their balls. Once all the guards are down, I realize Gandalf is speaking to the king. Gimli has the black haired man pinned to the floor by his boot.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf's voice is full of authority. "I release you from the spell," he commands.

A terrible laugh leaves the old man's throat. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey."

Gandalf throws away his tattered grey cloak to reveal his glowing white robes, and I swear he grows at least a few inches as he stands tall and proud. The crows gasps, and I can't help the look of awe on my face.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," he says, and thrusts forward his staff. The king is thrown back in his chair, and groans as if in pain.

There's running footsteps to my right, and a young blonde woman rushes in. Her pale eyes takes in the scene, and rushes towards the king. Aragorn quickly grabs her arm, holding her back.

"If I go, Théoden dies," a strange voice from the king spits in reply. This can't be the king's voice, it sounds too terrible.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him." Gandalf slowly continues towards the king, still holding the staff in front of him.

"Rohan is mine!" The voice growls, and lungs forward towards Gandalf with a might cry. I can't help the yelp that escapes me as Gandalf thrusts him back with his staff. Théoden slumps forward, and the woman rushes to stop him from falling. I can't believe my eyes as his face slowly changes; his hair and beard shorten and darkens, his face becomes younger, and his eyes turn blue.

"What was that?" I whisper to Legolas, who's standing closest to me.

"Gandalf banished Saruman from the king's mind. He can now think freely again."

Théoden stands up shakily. "Dark have been my dreams of late."

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf says, his voice amused.

The man who stopped us at the doors step forwards, and offers the king his sword. Théoden takes it and lifts it up in front of him. There's something monumental about this moment, and I can't help but to smile. The king's eyes shifts from the crowd to the pale man on the floor, and his eyes darken.

He lungs forward, and grasps the man by the collar or his robes before throwing him towards the doors, which are being opened. He is thrown down the stairs, and though I do not like him, I wince in pain for him. That can't feel very good. I pay little attention to the confrontation below, and instead watch the blonde woman standing on my right. She's taller than me, but not by much. Her skin is paler than Legolas', and her hair a golden blonde. Despite her beautiful appearance, there's something cold about her. I can't put my finger on it.

"…Hail, Théoden, King!" Commands the strong voice of the captain, drawing me swiftly to the present. I bow my head in respect as I see the others do.

"Where is Théodred?" Théoden says, his voice confused as his eyes searches the faces around him. "Where is my son?"

"I can have your clothes cleaned if you like?" Éowyn asks, sounding slightly uncomfortable as she stands in the room that's supposed to be mine. There's a steaming bath prepared for me, and I want nothing more than to soak in the warm water.

"That would be lovely, thank you," I reply, and Éowyn leaves the room while I change out of my dirt-and bloodstained clothes and into a dressing robe. She resurfaces for a second to take my clothes to whoever it is that does the washing around here, and then leaves me alone. I make sure the door is locked; for some reason I feel more exposed here than I did in Lothlórien.

The hot water does wonders for my sore muscles, and when I emerge almost an hour later, I feel re-energized. I put on the blue dress that's been laid out for me. It's the same style as the one Éowyn was wearing; ankle length with belled sleeves and a low waist. It's kind of itchy, and the sleeves keep getting in my way, but I don't dare to say anything. I'll just have to wait until the morning when my clothes will be dry. My hair is put up in its usual plait, and then I leave my room to try to find the others, and maybe some food. As saturating as Lembas is, I'd rather eat something else for a while. Gimli sits by the long table in the main hall alongside Rohan people I don't know, eating what appears to be meat and vegetables. My stomach growls as the smell of food reaches my nose, and I waste no time sitting down next to Gimli and start loading up food on my plate. I can feel curious eyes watching me, but I try not to pay any attention to them.

There's not much life in the Golden Hall this evening; with the funeral tomorrow, no one's really feeling festive. I spend the evening in the main hall with my companions and the leader of the guards, named Háma. I sit and listen as they tell stories about everything between heaven and earth. Not until I can barely keep my eyes open do I excuse myself for the night. Dressed in yet another bell sleeved dress, a nightgown this time, I lay down on the soft bed. I close my eyes and try to sleep, but find it impossible. Sighing, I sit up. I've gotten so used to sleeping on the ground, the notion of a soft bed is almost absurd to me. Then an idea comes to me, and I strip the bed of its sheet, comforter and pillow, and lay them on the stone floor. With the sheet beneath me, and the duvet keeping me warm, I soon feel myself being carried into sleep.

The funeral is scheduled to start right after breakfast, and I eat in silence with the others. No one is in a talking mood. When Éowyn comes to leave a thick black dress in my room, she eyes my floor-bed. I feel no need to explain myself to her, so I don't. This dress, like the blue one, is slightly itchy as well, and I only feel slightly bad to want to get back in my normal clothes as soon as possible. I redo my braid, and hope I look presentable enough for a royal funeral. I've only been to a funeral once before, my grandfather's when I was 15. There's a knock on the door, and when I call come in, Legolas enters. I'm taken aback by how solemn he looks; it's so unlike him.

"The funeral is about to begin," he says.

I nod. "I'm almost ready."

The Main Hall is silent as we walk towards the doors. Aragorn stands just outside, his face grave. I squeeze his arm gently, and he nods slightly.

Having no idea who anyone in the funeral party is, I stay close to my companions. Gimli walks with his head bowed down in respect for the fallen prince, Legolas next to me, Aragorn walks in front of us, he too grave and silent. As they walk past with the body of Théodred, I'm struck by how young he looks. He can't be much older than me. It's an eye opener, of sorts, seeing first hand the effects of the war. Éowyn begins to sing as they load her cousin's body into the grave. Heartbreaking words that, even though I can't understand them, goes straight into my heart. A tear falls down my cheek, and I reach up to brush it away. I feel my hand being enclosed in another's, and Legolas's quiet strength flows through me.

Our hands don't part until we've once again entered the Hall, and I excuse myself to my room. I lean back against the door and sigh. My eyes fall on the bed, where two folded pieces of fabrics are laying. I rush in getting the itchy black dress off, and slide into my Elf made clothes with a smile. I feel better already. Folding the dress neatly on the bed, I put on my cloak and go the great Hall.

Éowyn is standing next a table where two children I don't recognize sit and eat. They look dirty and frightened. This can't be good.

"What's going on?" I ask, looking to Legolas to clear things up. Instead it's Éowyn who speaks, but not to me.

"They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the Wild Men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree."

I was right, this isn't good. Wild Men, coming closer from the sound of Éowyn. I sit down next to Aragorn, who is sucking on a long pipe. Gimli is eating, and I feel my stomach clench in hunger. Legolas stands behind me, leaning against one of the pillars holding up the roof.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf says. He's sitting next to Théoden, who has his head in his hands. He looks like he's got the entire world on his shoulders. "All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

Aragorn lowers his pipe. "You have 2000 good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King."

"They will be 300 leagues from here by now." Théoden rises from his seat and walks down to the main floor. "Éomer cannot help us. I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

"When last I looked," Théoden begins slowly, his voice firm, "Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf's voice is calm as he sucks on his pipe.

All eyes turn to Théoden. I can see turmoil in his eyes for a moment, but then it vanishes. He opens his mouth, and two words leaves his lips. "Helm's Deep."

* * *

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	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 12

I can only describe it as organized chaos, everybody running around and gathering supplies. I have nothing to contribute, and feel like I'm in the way. I try to stay close to Aragorn, since I'm most level-headed with him. I'm watching him exchange words with Éowyn when a hand wraps itself around my arm and pulls me away to an empty corridor. I don't scream, because I recognize the green clad figure now standing in front of me. Legolas looks troubled, his brow furrowed low over his eyes.

"I cannot carry on like this any longer," he says before I can get a word in. "I have tried to forget my feelings for you, but it has been impossible."

He takes my hand and places it over his heart. My mouth go dry, my knees weaken, and I can't look away from his eyes. Is he saying what I think he's saying? I can feel his heart beating rapidly below my hand.

"My heart belongs to you, it is yours to do with as you wish."

I'm speechless. Never in a million years did I anticipate this. I still can't look away from his eyes, and I'm scared he's seeing right trough me. I should be thrilled; the man -the Elf- whom I love, loves me back. But all I can think about is Aragorn's words when he talked about Arwen; that she will die for loving a mortal man. I can't allow that to happen to him. I'll lie, he'll forget about me, and find a nice female Elf to fall in love with instead.

Legolas lets go of my hand and it falls useless by my side. "You do not feel the same," he says, a statement, not a question. "Forgive me if I have troubled you, it was no my intent." Without letting me say anything, he's gone. I stand there in shock. I can't believe that just happened. I'm still in semi-shock when Aragorn comes up to me.

"Julia? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie, quickly changing my facial expression. "Are we leaving?"

He looks like he doesn't believe me, but lets the subject go anyway. Outside, people have started walking, and I see Legolas standing by the stable, holding Arod's reins and looking out over the crowd. I look for Gandalf but doesn't see him anywhere.

"Where's Gandalf?" I ask Aragorn, who is mounting Hasufel.

"He's ridden to get help. There will be a fight, Julia, there is no doubt about that, and Théoden will need every man willing to fight if he's to win." He nods to Legolas. "Go with Legolas." Then he rides off, and I'm left standing there.

I hesitate for a few seconds before going over to Legolas. I feel awkward, but he shows no signs of the words we just exchanged.

"You can ride," he says. "I am needed as a scout."

"Thank you," I say sincerely. My ribs still hurt occasionally, and I'm not looking forward to more walking. Taking over Arod's reins, I place my left foot in the stirrup and heave myself up. I can feel my posture straighten, and all I know about horses and riding coming back to me. It's truly like riding a bike, you never forget. Locating Aragorn and Gimli, I spur Arod on to catch up with them.

I ride next to Aragorn, listening to Éowyn and Gimli as they talk and laugh. A chill goes through me, and I pull my cloak closer to my body. For the first time, I'm wondering what time of year it is here. My first conclusion is that's early spring, but I can't be sure. Who knows what the seasons are like in Middle Earth?

"Hey Aragorn, you don't happen to know today's date, do you?" I ask, turning my head to look at Aragorn.

He thinks for a moment. "March 4th, I think."

March 4th. Holy shit. Yesterday was my birthday. I forgot my own birthday. I realize Aragorn is speaking, and shake my head to clear my mind. "Huh?"

"I asked why the date is important to you."

"Oh." I look down, and much to my chagrin, I feel my cheeks flush with colour. "Yesterday was my birthday."

"Your birthday?" Gimli exclaims, having listened to our conversation. "And just how old are you, lassie?"

"Don't you know anything about women, Gimli? You're not supposed to ask a woman her age. Or her weight," I reply, winking at him. He laughs.

"Do you ask the Dwarf women their ages too, Gimli?" Éowyn asks, laughing. "When I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen a Dwarf woman before."

"It's true, you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men."

Éowyn looks back at Aragorn, who grins. "It's the beards," he whispers, motioning to an imaginary beard on his chin. I laugh.

"So, how old are you then?" Aragorn says, turning his attention back to me.

"I'm 23." It's funny, because I normally don't feel any older on my birthday, but now I do. I can't have been in Middle Earth for more than two months, but I feel like I've aged years.

A huff of surprise catches my attention, and I look up to see the horse Gimli's riding suddenly gallop off, throwing Gimli to the ground. He doesn't look hurt, not much but his pride that is. I hear Théoden and Aragorn talk about Éowyn, as she looks back at her uncle and Aragorn with a beaming smile. Her eyes shifts to me, and her smile falters slightly. I frown. I have no idea why she doesn't like me. I haven't done anything, that I'm aware of, that would make her unlike me.

I suddenly feel myself longing for Legolas' company. I can barely make him out in the front of the caravan, scouting for enemies. We ride for another hour or two, and then stop to eat. I dismount Arod easily, my ribs hurting less than they did yesterday. I loose the nose band on his bridle slightly to allow him to eat better, and hold onto his reins as he eats the little grass that's started to grow on the ground. I'm not very hungry, but I accept a piece of bread from an older woman who's going around and giving food.

"Is that all you are eating?" A melodic voice comes from my left, and I suppress a yell.

"Haven't I told you before not to sneak up on me like that? I swear to God, you're going to give me a heart attack one day," I say to Legolas, trying to keep my voice even and unaffected. My heart however, is beating twice as fast as normal.

"I apologize. Would you like me to find you something else to eat?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

I sit down on the ground, feeling my legs and butt burn a bit as I do. I'm not used to riding, and I can feel it in my muscles. Legolas crouches down next to me, and the next thing I know, we're talking about my world. I'm trying to explain about everyday life in London, but I'm not sure how good a job I'm doing. He seems interested though, his eyes gleaming and his mouth smiling. I'm suddenly overtaken by an urge to kiss him. Just lean forward, and press my lips against his. It would be so easy. But I don't. I have to be strong. Too soon, it's announced that we're continuing our journey. Legolas smiles at me before going to the front of the caravan.

I look at Arod, who is half dozing. "Looks like it's just you and me now. Are you ready to go on?" He snorts, shaking his head. I laugh. He's probably a bit tired too. "Fine, I'll walk for now. You deserve a bit of rest."

I start to walk, and Arod obediently follows me. I'm not sure if it's in my imagination or not, but it feels like people are watching me as I walk past them. I steal a glance to my left, and meet the eyes of a foot soldier. He quickly looks away, pretending to fix something with his gloves. I frown. Do I have something on my face? The answer hits me when I see a group of young women, about my age, walk past. They're all wearing dresses. Long dresses. I'm not. Although I'm covered from my neck down, the people of Edoras is obviously not used to seeing a woman's legs, legging-clad or not.

"Do you mind if I join you?" I'm pulled away from my thoughts by Éowyn's voice. She's walking in my direction holding the reins of a bay mare.

"No, of course," I say, forcing a smile on my face. We fall in step with each other, though neither of us is saying a word. I don't like this silence, and struggle for something to say. However, Éowyn beats me to it.

"I'm afraid I do not know much about you, far less than I do your other companions. Are you from the north, like Lord Aragorn?"

I hesitate. I'm not entirely sure how many people should be made aware of my situation. I decide I'll give away some information, but not everything. Not nearly everything. "No, I'm not. I'm from a place very far away, called London."

"I've not heard of it. How did you find yourself in the company of Lord Aragorn and the others?"

I don't think I like direction these questions are going. I have no idea what to say to her, but luckily, Aragorn comes to my rescue. The moment Éowyn sees him, she forgets her questions to me. I send him a smile, grateful to not have to deal with all those questions. I would not know what to say, anyway.

And so I keep walking. Arod follows me, his head pressed against my back. He truly is a magnificent horse. A family of five walks in front of me; a woman a few years older than me, and four children. Other than a baby in the woman's arms, the youngest child can't be older than four years old. The girl walks sluggishly, as if she's tired. I feel bad for her, so I quicken my pace.

"Excuse me," I say, and the mother turns to look at me. "I don't mean to make assumptions, but your daughter looks very tired. If it's all right with you, she can ride," I motion my head to Arod. "I'm not riding, anyway."

She hesitates, looking at her tired daughter, and then nods slowly. "Thank you, miss."

I crouch down in front of the little girl. She has big, dark blue eyes, and is super adorable. "Hey pretty girl. I'm Julia. What's your name?"

"Saelufu," she answers shyly, looking up at me from under her lashes.

"That's a pretty name. Are you tired?" Again, a shy nod. I look up at her mother, and she gives me a reassuring smile. "If you want to, you can ride on my horse. He's very gentle, I promise."

Saelufu looks up at Arod, who chooses that moment to lower his head and nuzzle her blonde head. She giggles, and reaches up at hand to pet him. The huge smile on her face is answer enough, and I steal another glance at her mother before I grab her waist and hoist her up in the saddle.

"Just hold on to his mane so you don't fall off, okay?"

Saelufu nods, and grasps Arod's mane between her small fingers. She squeals in delight when we start to move. I spend the entire afternoon walking with the family, and it's a nice change, hanging out with the little people, so to speak. When Háma announces it's time to set up camp for the night, I lift Saelufu down from Arod.

"Thank you," Her mother, named Sinnie, says, clasping my hands between her own.

"It was no problem, truly."

I leave, after a final wave to Saelufu. Tents are being put up, and a guard offers to take Arod and put him with the other horses. Once I'm relieved of him, I set on to try to find one of my companions. I find Aragorn first, sitting alone close to the fire. He's smoking a pipe, which makes me think of Gandalf. I wonder if he's found any men to help in the fight yet.

"Hey," I say as I sit down. There's a slight chill to the wind, and I wrap my elvish cloak closer to my body. Aragorn nods at me, but remains silent. "Do you know how far we have left before we reach Helm's Deep?"

"A day more, maybe two," he answers. Two soldiers walk past us, and then we're alone again.

"Is everything okay? You seem bothered by something."

Aragorn puts out his pipe, and looks at me. "I know about Legolas' confession to you in Edoras."

"What?" I stutter. Did I hear him correctly?

"Legolas told me about it. Why did you not tell him you feel the same way?" My face must read of pure shock, because Aragorn gives a half smile. "I see more than you think, Julia."

"Oh." I look down in my lap. My fingers are pulling on the edge of my cloak.

"So why did you not tell him?"

I shrug. "Because. It's sort of doomed, isn't it?" I look up at him. "He's immortal. I'm not. I'll get old and die, he won't. It's as simple as that."

Aragorn shakes his head. "Not quite. Elves feel things much more strongly than we can ever imagine. When they love, it's for life. If he already loves you, nothing will change that."

"What about you and Arwen?"

A look of melancholy passes over Aragorn's face, and he sighs. "She's sailing to the undying lands with what is rest of her kin. I let her go."

I frown. I'm not understanding his logic, at all. He lets Arwen go so she won't die of a broken heart, but encourages me to tell Legolas how I feel? I tell him this, and he's silent for a few minutes, sucking on his pipe stem.

"Because this is war, Julia. There are no guarantees what will happen in the future." He stands up. "Follow your heart, Julia. It is the only advice I have for you." With those words he walks to one of the tents to sleep. I sit by the fire for several minutes, complementing what Aragorn just told me. I don't know what to do. I really don't.

Since I wasn't around for the raising of the tents, I have no idea where I'm going to sleep. I've never let that stop me before. I find a spot a bit away from the fire that feels soft enough, and I bunch the hood of my cloak up under my head as a pillow as I lay down. It's not bad, I've definitely had worse. But as I close my eyes and try to sleep, a new problem presents itself.

A freezing wind is coming in over the camp, and I feel my body break out in goosebumps. I haven't been this cold since when I first arrived in Middle Earth. You'd think that because of the mountains that loom up from the West we would be safe from the wind, but it seems to be the opposite instead.

I feel a hand upon my shoulder, and I look up. Legolas is crouching before me, looking worried, his brow low and his eyes appearing almost black in the darkness.

"Are you cold?"

I nod, my teeth still shattering and my body shivering as a particularly strong gush of wind makes its way underneath my cloak.

"Come sit with me, I will keep you warm."

Legolas offers his hand and I hesitate but a moment before grasping it. He pulls me to my feet, and leads me closer to the fire. Sitting down, he motions for me to join him. I wonder for a moment why he isn't sleeping, but remember that he's on guard duty. I sit down next to him, suddenly feeling a bit shy. I can't forget his admission of his feelings for me; it's on my mind constantly. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp when he lifts me so I'm sitting sideways on his lap. I want to protest, but I find myself unable to. I'm too tired, and too cold. Instead I wrap my arm around his middle and tuck my head under his chin. My nose is pressed against his throat, and I take a deep breath. He smells like leaves, earth, and spring rain. I can slowly feel myself warming up, and I close my eyes to try to get some sleep. Legolas starts to sing in a low voice, so low I doubt anyone but me can hear him. The song is in Elvish, and even though I can't understand what he's singing about I find myself being lulled to sleep.

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	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: **I recieved some lovely reviews for the previous chapter, which made me really happy :) I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 13

When I wake up the next morning, I'm lying in one of the tents. Éowyn is sleeping across the tent, and I sit up gingerly. I remember nothing after falling asleep in Legolas' arms last night, so I have no idea how long I've been sleeping in here.

As I exit the tent, I find the camp busy with activities. People are running around everywhere getting things together so we can be on our way. I spot Gimli eating breakfast, and make my way over to him. I'm starving.

"Good morning, Gimli," I say cheerily.

"You are in a pleasant mood this morning, Julia," he answers, taking a bit from his bread.

"I am. I had a good night's sleep."

I reach for some bread and fruit, which is on the menu this morning. There's also some strange looking meat, but I don't feel adventurous enough to try it. When I'm almost finished eating, Éowyn emerges from the tent. She looks tired, and when our eyes meet I give her a small smile. I hope we can at least be civil with each other, it doesn't feel good that she dislikes me.

Soon after that it's once again time to start moving. I'm still walking, Arod's reins firmly in my hand. Legolas falls in step next to me, pausing on his way to the front-line to scout for dangers.

"Aragorn told me about your birthday," he smiles. "Why did you not tell anybody?"

"I didn't even realize!" I defend myself. "I had no idea what date it was, so I didn't even think about it."

As I look at him, I'm struck again by beautiful he is. The sun is catching the light in his hair, making it look like liquid gold. I realize I'm staring, and try to make it less obvious. By the larger smile now occupying his lips, I'm not entirely sure I succeeded. I blush, and look down at my feet. I suddenly feel his hand in mine, and something being put around my wrist. I flex my wrist, and see an intricately plaited bracelet, made of brown and tan leather. I look up at Legolas, and he's watching my reaction.

"It's beautiful. You shouldn't have..."

"It would please me if you were to accept it," he says. How can I argue with that? I can't, so I smile and thank him again. He replies in the Elvish hand movement thing, and then goes to the front of the caravan. I look after him, fingering the bracelet. He's really making it hard for me to continue like this.

"What do you think I should do?" I ask Arod. He snorts, shaking his head and covering my sleeve in drool. I laugh. "Thanks, that's really helpful advice."

I move a bit faster, trying to catch up to the front of the caravan. I try to tell myself it's not so that I can see Legolas, even though that would be lying to myself. I fall in step with Éowyn, who is also walking. I feel like I should say something to her, and I rack my brain trying to find something suitable.

"If you need help with anything when we're in Helm's Deep, I'll be happy to do whatever is needed," I finally say, and the look she gives me is actually one of gratitude. Huh. Maybe she's warming up to me. One can only hope.

Looking up, I see Aragorn racing down the hills towards us. I frown. He looks frantic. The words that come out of his mouth confirms this. "Wargs! We're under attack!"

Fear grips my heart. Wargs. That sounds much, much worse than Orcs. Somehow in all the panic, I manage to calm a very nervous Arod down enough to help Gimli up on his back, and send him forward. Théoden barks out orders, and I decide then and there that I will help Éowyn with whatever she needs. I start to try to gather people to the lower grounds, where Éowyn is shouting at them to go. My head whips around, and my eyes meet Aragorn's for second before he rides off with the others.

"Stay together!" I yell out to the people of Rohan. A big lump sets itself deep in my stomach. I don't like this.

It's at least three or four hours before I lay eyes on the imperial stone fortress that towers before us in the distance. Helm's Deep. Many of the refugees cry out in relief and joy as it comes into sight. I barely hear their voices at all. The only thing I have felt since the battle is worry over my friends, and Legolas. There hasn't been any word of the battle, so we can do nothing but wait.

I can't enjoy all the splendour around me as we walk into the fortress, my mind is elsewhere. There are hundreds of people in the massive stone corridors, but none of their faces stick in my mind. I feel lost, forlorn, now that I'm parted from Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn. They have become my family, and I don't feel safe when they're not around. I look to Éowyn, who is wearing a similar look on her face.

"What can I do to help?" I ask. I need to do something to keep busy. If I stop, I'll think. If I think, I'll go crazy.

Éowyn gives me the task to organize clothing and bedding, which is to be taken to the caves. I do my chores mechanically. It feels like I do it for hours, folding until my brain can't handle it any more. Suddenly I hear the clatter of several horse's hooves on the stone floor.

"Make way for Théoden! Make way for the King!" A guard shouts.

With my heart in my throat, I rush through the corridors in the direction of the sounds. I arrive right after Éowyn, almost crashing into her body.

My eyes do a quick search amongst the men. I see Gimli, looking sad but unhurt. The knot in my stomach lessens slightly. Then I see Legolas, and I breathe a sigh of relief as the knot in my stomach dissolves. He's alive! Our eyes meet, and I nearly gasp. The normally sparkling eyes are dull and lifeless, but when he looks at me a small spark returns in them. He tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

I hear Éowyn ask for Aragorn, and my heart sinks. Where's Aragorn? I look from Gimli, his words not making any sense, to Legolas as he dismounts. The heartbroken look on his face is answer enough. I cover my mouth with my hand, and quench a sob. I stumble forwards into Legolas' arms. He holds me tightly, and I bury my face in his chest.

"Is it true?" I mumble, knowing he can hear me. I get no verbal response, just a slight tightening of his embrace. Why do people I care about keep dying? First Gandalf, then Boromir, and now Aragorn. I am so tired of war, of death.

"It's going to be all right," I hear Legolas' voice in my ear. "Hold on to me."

I wrap my arms around his middle, and feel him lift me up. Where we're going, I have no idea. I keep my eyes closed until I felt myself being put down on a wooden crate. His arms disappears from around me, and when I look up, he's sitting on his knees in front of me.

"What happened?" My voice is emotionless. I can't even cry any more.

"He went over a cliff, and into the river below. I wish I could say there is a chance, but I cannot lie to you." He takes my hands, which are in my lap, between his own, caressing them softly. I look down at our hands; his pale and my slightly tanner ones. The words Aragorn spoke to me yesterday in the camp runs through my head. I deserve to be happy. So does Legolas. Right now neither one of us is happy. I can't keep worrying about Legolas' immortal status. This is war, and today has only proven that you can't be sure of anything.

"Tell me you love me," my voice is soft. I need to hear the words. It won't be real until I do.

Legolas squeezes my hands tighter, and leans in towards me slightly. "I love you, Julia."

My heart lightens, like a huge weight has been lifted off it. I feel my lips widen in a smile. I pull my hands from his and watch his face fall for a second before I launch myself in his arms. He falls back, arms going around my body to steady my weight. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, my fingers tangling into his silky hair.

"I love you," I whisper, my lips near his ear.

He pulls his head back to look at me, brow slightly furrowed. "I thought you didn't feel the same way," he says, his tone disbelieving.

"I do, God help me, I do. You look me by surprise, I had no idea you felt like that about me. Then I was afraid to say anything because of Arwen and Aragorn, but he spoke to me yesterday and I knew I had to tell you. I'm rambling, I should stop."

I feel my face flush with colour. Legolas smiles slightly, and his hand comes up to stroke my cheek. His eyes drop to my lips, and I forget how to breathe. Slowly his face comes closer to mine, and I can see grey flecks of colour in his eyes. He hesitates for less than a second, and then his lips are touching mine. My eyes close, my arms tighten around his neck, and I moan. Our kiss deepens, our mouths opening, and I press my body closer to his. My hands slides down to clasp his face, and when my fingers touches the tops of his pointed ears, he groans. I rise up on my knees, and press my body closer to his. I need to feel him, I need to know he's really here.

When breathing is becoming an issue, I detach myself from him reluctantly, burrowing my face in the crook of his neck. I don't want to go back to the real world, I just want to stay in here with Legolas.

"We should go back," he says softly.

I shake my head, trying to crawl closer to him. "No. Can't we just stay here?"

Legolas laughs softly, and gently pulls back to look at me. His eyes has lost that dull look. "I wish that too, meleth nín, but we cannot linger."

"What did you call me?" I ask, not able to hide the large smile on my face.

"Meleth nín. It means my love."

My heart swells. I can't help myself, I lean forwards and capture his lips with mine. It's a short kiss though, and when I look around I become aware for the first time of the room we're in. It seems to be a storage room of some sort; there's all kinds of things in here, from blankets and shields to ladders.

Rapid knocking is heard on the door, and I try to compose myself while Legolas opens the door. A Rohan soldier stands there, and his face turns red when he comes face to face with the Elven archer. I stand up from my position on the floor, brushing off the dirt from my knees and making sure my hair doesn't stick out in odd directions. While the soldier walks into the room and starts to pull out whatever it is he needs, Legolas and I slip out the door. There's still a lot of people around everywhere, and I long for solitude. The sun has gone down, and soon it will be dark. I need to find Éowyn, find out what happens now. I turn to Legolas, and open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. A small smile plays on his lips, and he squeezed my hand in his own.

"I'll find you later," I say. "I should go help Éowyn."

"Be careful," are his parting words. I resist the urge to skip down the stone pathway. I'm a grown woman, I should not act like that. There's also the death of Aragorn weighing on my mind. If possible, I feel worse than I did when Gandalf fell in Moria. I've known Aragorn longer, and I love him like a brother.

I find Éowyn down in the caves, and I only need to take one look at her red rimmed eyes to know that she's been crying. I want to say something comforting, but I don't know what words will bring her comfort. Instead I give what I hope is a comforting looking smile before I ask what I can do to help. As it turns out, everyone is getting ready to sleep. Silently, Éowyn leads me up from the caves and to a small room just off a narrow hallway. The bed is no more than a cot with a straw mattress, but I'm so tired it doesn't really matter. Éowyn leaves a shift I can sleep in before leaving the room.

Putting the shift down on the bed, I stand in the middle of the room for a few moments. I should go find Legolas. I hope he doesn't have to stand guard or something like that. I need him. I leave my cloak in the room, and then go on a search for the blond Elf. While I'm searching, I try to retrace my steps mentally so I'll find my way back later.

After reaching dead ends a few times, I finally come to the right place. However, my face goes beet red when I realize I've just walked into one of the sleeping rooms for the soldiers. Luckily, everyone is fully dressed, albeit looking weirdly at me as I stand in the doorway. Gimli is amongst them, and he too looks curiously at me. I breathe a huge sigh of relief when I spot Legolas making his way towards me. We say nothing as he places a hand on my back and guides me out of the room. The door closes, and I let out a nervous laugh.

"That was uncomfortable." I take his hand off my back, entwining our fingers. I feel much calmer now that he's here. "Do you have to stand guard or something like that tonight?"

Legolas shakes his head. "Nay, I am not required by the King until the morrow."

"Good, follow me." Still clasping his hand in mine, I start walking up to where I think my room is located. I have to stop a few times to think of the way, trying to ignoring his amused grin, but it's not too long before we're inside and I'm bolting the door behind us. You can never be too careful.

Once I've bolted the door, I realize something. I'm locked in a room with Legolas, with no obligations until the morning. I blush. "I don't want to be alone tonight. Could you just hold me?"

"Yes," is his simple reply, said in an almost whisper.

My fingers work to remove the plait from my hair, and again as I comb the tresses out. I don't change into the shift, instead I put it on a chair standing close to the door. Once I'm done, I climb onto the cot. Like I predicted, it's not comfortable by a long shot, but when Legolas climbs in next to me and pulls me close to his chest, I forget that I'm uncomfortable. I don't want to fall asleep yet, so instead I talk.

We must have been awake for hours; talking about how he grew up in Mirkwood, his mother who sailed to the Undying Lands centuries ago, and more about my life in London. Only when I can't keep my eyes open do we stop, and he begins singing an Elvish lullaby. I curl up closer to him, and silently wish we could stay like this forever.

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	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Huge thanks to all my wonderful readers! You are amazing!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 14

The next day follows closely in the footsteps of yesterday. It seems like there's an endless list of chores that needs doing, which means that I'm fully occupied for most of the day. I haven't seen Gimli all day, and Legolas only briefly as I woke up. Fondly recalling the sweet kiss he pressed to my lips before leaving, I feel my spirits lifting slightly. I work in silence, feeling a bead of sweat run down my forehead. I wipe it away with my sleeve, and as I do, I get a whiff of my armpit. Oh my God, that's ripe. I'd give my left arm for a proper hot shower and some soap. Letting my arm fall down, I try to purge that awful smell from my nostrils.

Since nobody is talking to me, and I dislike silence, I start to sing to kill the silence. I actually enjoy singing, despite my awful singing voice. "I don't care if Monday's blue, Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too. Thursday I don't care about you, it's Friday I'm in love." I bob my head to the sound of music in my head, continuing with the tasks given to me.

I feel a tingle up my spine, and I smile. Legolas. I know he's standing behind me even before I feel his hands slide gently around my waist. Sighing in content, I lean back against his hard body.

"I missed you," I say softly, turning my face into his neck.

"You have been in my thoughts since daybreak."

He angles his head down to mine, and our lips meet in a soft kiss. Without breaking the kiss I turn in his arms, grabbing his biceps as our kiss deepens. The taste of him in my mouth, the feeling of his body against mine, soft suede underneath my fingers. This is bliss. I gasp in surprise when he lifts me up and walks us backwards, until I feel my back make contact with the stone wall, where he sets me down. I pull back from his mouth, and realize he's chosen a more secluded spot for us.

Good thinking.

I'm not very up for the possibility of someone walking by and seeing us. The last thing I need is more for them to gossip about. Goosebumps breaks out on my skin when our lips meet once again. I don't know how long we stand there, but when we finally pull apart I'm on a sensory overload. I'm guessing that Legolas can feel that, with his heightened senses and all. I'm about to ask him if we should go spend some time with Gimli, when a puzzled look comes onto his face. I can tell that he's hearing something too far away for my human ears to detect, and I hope it's not battle.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice no more than a whisper. My body tenses, my fight or flight instinct in full mode.

"Stay here," he commands, and then I'm alone. I huff, pushing back the hair left tangled by his fingers behind my ears, and cross my arms. My good mood is slowly vanishing. I wait for about a minute, but I hear nothing, and he's not coming back.

"I'm **not** staying here," I say outloud. Just to be on the safe side, I keep my hand on my sword hilt as I walk out from the alcove, and to the hallway outside the Hall. To my surprise, there's no sign of battle. Everything is as usual. I see Legolas standing in front of the doors talking to a tall, dark haired man. I halt in my step, sure that I'm hallucinating.

Standing in front of Legolas; dirty and bloody but very much alive, is Aragorn. I'm pretty sure my mouth is hanging open in shock. He's alive?! How is he alive?! This needs further thinking, but not right now. I start half running towards him, not having made up my mind whether to hug him or hit him. It only takes for me to see his tired eyes and bloody face, and all my anger fades away. I doubt he sees me coming, because he stumbles slightly backwards when I launch myself at him.

"You're alive!" I try not to squeeze him too tightly; I don't know the full extent of his injuries. I feel his arms tentatively go around me, hugging me back.

"Yes. I have been blessed with life," he replies, and I pull back to look at him. He looks awful, blood and dirt on his face and body. Still, the pristine gleaming silver of the Evenstar sits at his throat, which makes me smile.

"You look terrible," I say, and much to my surprise he laughs.

"You are not the only one to think so."

"If I wasn't so happy to see you, I'd hit you right now! You've caused me a lot of grief, Aragorn, I will have you know that," my tone is teasing, reminiscent of our sword fighting lessons in Lothlórien.

He grins. "I apologize for the distress I have caused you then, my lady."

It feels so good to be able to talk to him again, that I have to hug him again. Both he and Legolas gives similar laughs. When I've once again pulled back, and I can feel Legolas hand resting lightly on my back, I look up at Aragorn. He looks serious, and very troubled, and I frown. Oh no, not more bad news.

"What's wrong?" I demand to know.

"I do not know an easy way to say this, so I will speak clearly. Ten thousand Uruk-Hai marches toward Helm's Deep from Isengard as we speak. They will be here by nightfall."

I gasp, my hands coming up to cover my mouth in shock. "Ten thousand? Are you serious?!"

He nods. "Regrettably. The King has ordered all women, children and men too old to fight to go into the caves, as soon as possible."

"I'll help you," I say with a nod.

"You will be in the caves with them," Legolas says behind me, moving up to stand beside me. I look up at him, and when my eyes connect with his I see fear in them. Fear of what?

I nod. "Of course. I'll do whatever I can." Watching as he visibly draws a breath of relief, I frown as it dawns on me. "You didn't actually think I'd fight you on that matter, did you?"

"Nay, not truly." He smiles, but it's half-hearted.

"Good. I'll help with what I can until nightfall, and then I'll go into the caves. You have my word."

Legolas raises his hand, and places it gently on my cheek. "Meleth nín," he says in a whisper. Then he bows his head, and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

"We need to start preparing," Aragorn says. I hear amusement in his voice, and when I look at him there's a hint of a smile on his face.

"Yeah, let's go find Gimli. I need some normal company," I grumble, much to my companions amusement.

Helm's Deep is chaotic; people gathering their belongings and clinging to their loved ones. A soldier is calling out for the women and children to please hurry their pace to the caves. There's a lot of people that needs transporting, so a level of efficiency is necessary. I don't think the severity of the situation really hits me until I see a woman not much older than myself hug her husband tightly before letting him go. She's crying. They will all be separated, I realize. Sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, husbands and wives. They are all saying goodbye, possibly for the last time.

Time passes too quickly. The sun is already starting to set, and there are still a lot of people that isn't in the caves yet. I'm going upstream after loading yet another endless load of supplies in the caves, Legolas and Aragorn walking beside me. We left Gimli in the caves; he couldn't hide his awe of the glittering stones, and I hope the beauty of the caves will ease his mind.

"We will place reserves along the wall," Aragorn calls, pointing to the walls to our left. I glance up to see where the men will stand, though I can't understand any of his war lingo. "They can support the archers from above the gate," he finishes and continue walking.

"Aragorn, you must rest," Legolas tells him firmly. "You are no use to us half alive."

"You need to try to get some of your strength back." If Red Bull existed in Middle Earth, I'd supply Aragorn with a six pack. He looks like he needs it; he hasn't stopped moving since his return, choosing instead to help plan defences, checking walls and helping people into the caves.

"My Lord! Aragorn!" Éowyn rushes towards us, trying to avoid running into people as she brushes past them. She looks upset, her otherwise pale cheeks tinged with pink. I don't want to eavesdrop on her conversation with Aragorn, I can tell from her tone of voice that it's somewhat private. Instead I begin to help the people walking past us, and from the corner of my eye I see Legolas doing the same.

"How many fighters do you think Rohan have?" I ask him, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Too few," he replies, his voice low as he helps an elderly woman.

Another lump in my stomach, the one that erased itself when I saw Aragorn again, makes itself known. It wouldn't surprise me if I got an ulcer soon, with all the stress I've been under lately. I halt for a second, and slowly the realization comes to me that there is a large chance of my companions being hurt. I don't doubt their skills in battle, but the odds are not in our favour. I feel my hand being enclosed in his, and I look up into his eyes.

"Do not be troubled, Julia," he says, though I can tell he hardly believes the words himself. I move forward and lean my forehead against his, sighing softly. I don't want to think about what lies ahead, but I can't help it. Our moment is interrupted by a voice shouting loudly. I pull back, and look towards where Aragorn and Éowyn is standing.

"You do not command the others to stay! They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you!"

Though movement doesn't falter in the pathway, it feels like the whole place has gone deathly silent. I hear the sad and lonely tone in Éowyn's voice, and I can't help but to feel sorry for her. She looks frightened, her lips parted and her eyes wide as she stares at Aragorn. Then she lowers her head for a brief second before raising it again. "I am sorry." She pushes past him quickly, not looking at any of us as she jogs toward the caves.

"I feel badly for her," I tell Legolas as we follow Aragorn out from the pathway.

"The emotions of men are fickle. In time, she will forget about him."

This makes me stop, and I'm jostled by people passing me. I stare at him in disbelief. He thinks human emotions are fickle? How dare he! "Is that what you think of my emotions? As fickle?" My voice is shrill, and I notice a few people passing by looking at me.

Swiftly he pulls me into a secluded alcove. The similarities from earlier today are not lost to me, though I doubt this will be as pleasant.

"I have upset you," he states, blue eyes searching my face. "Goheno nin, it was not my intent."

"Damn right, you upset me," I say, and I can't stop the tears from welling in my eyes. I'm stressed out, and I can't seem to handle any of my emotions the way I want to. "The emotions of men are fickle? Is that what you think of me?"

Reaching up a hand, he brushed my tears away. "I did not mean it like that, meleth nín, please believe me."

"Then what did you mean?"

Legolas grabs my waist lightly, encircling his arms around me. "I have been on this earth a long time; I have met many a man claiming faithfulness and devotion for eternity, only to throw it all away. Elves mate for life; men do not, not in the fashion. Unrequited feelings are easier to forget, in time."

"Oh," I mumble. I feel foolish, having a fit like this when we're kind of in the middle of battle. Soon we'll be, anyways. "I'm sorry too. It's all these life and death situations; it's frazzling my nerves."

This earns me a laugh; a loud, joyful laugh that makes something inside me smile. "Come, it is nearly time. We cannot linger."

Moving from the pathway, we find both Aragorn and Gimli in the armoury. I know it's time for me to go to the caves soon, but I won't do so without saying goodbye. I embrace Gimli first, his coarse hair tickling my nose.

"You kill some of those Uruk-Hai for me, okay?" I say, planting a kiss on his hairy cheek before pulling away and rising to my full height.

"Count on it, lassie. I shall see you after the battle." He smiles, a slight nod of his head. As he goes through a pile of remaining chainmail shirts to find one that fits, I face Aragorn.

I hug him a bit tighter than before; he's got chainmail underneath his normal clothing. "You just focus on coming back alive, okay? I don't want any more of this fake-death crap." Or any real death crap, but I don't tell him that. "I may need more sword lessons from you, I'm starting to feel a bit rusty," I joke, trying to ease the tension. It doesn't work.

"We shall begin the moment the battle ends. There will be plenty of dead Uruk-Hai for you to stab," he answers, hugging me briefly but tightly. "You must go, it is almost time."

I don't say goodbye to Legolas yet, he wants to follow me down to the caves. I can't deny him. I curl myself at his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Okay then lads, I'll see you soon," I tell Gimli and Aragorn with a smile, fake as it is.

Then Legolas and I start going back towards the caves.

We say nothing, only walk with our arms around each other. Soldiers we meet on our way look at us, but I couldn't care less about them. Once within the hall, we stop several yards from the wooden doors that lead to the caves. There's a guard standing in front of them, and I pull Legolas into the shadow, away from both the light from torches and the guard. I want this to be private. My eyes fall upon his armour, the hard leather that protects his shoulders and the strap that holds it in place. My fingers follow the pattern, finally stopping right above his heart. It's beating fast, its rhythm matching mine.

"I'm scared," I whisper, looking up into his eyes. "Legolas, I'm so scared."

He cups my cheek, fingers gliding over my skin. "I wish to tell you that your fear is ungrounded, but I cannot."

I feel tears rise in my eyes, and I try to blink them away. "I'll be waiting for you."

His mouth comes crushing down on mine, taking my breath away. The kiss is desperate, hard, and filled with passion. I tangle my fingers in his hair and holds him to me as tightly as I can. I don't want to let him go. I don't want him to fight, though I understand why he does. Eventually though, we have to break apart. I'm panting, still holding a tight grip on him and leaning my forehead against his.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I will love you forever." He kisses me again, softly this time.

"Promise you'll come back to me," I cry. Legolas draws me into his arms, embracing me tightly and burying his face in my hair. I hold him equally tight.

"I cannot promise," he mumbles in my hair. I cry harder. I can feel his reluctance as he pulls back and gazes into my eyes. "My life is in Eru's hands now. With all of my being I wish to return to you, meleth nín." I can sense that he's about to pull away, and I realize that it's time. I press my lips to his one last time, choking back a sob. "May the Valar be with us both this night."

"I need to go now, or else I'll never leave," I say, wiping away my tears as I step away from his arms. "I believe in you, Legolas. I refuse to say goodbye."

He nods slightly. "I will look out for the others, and pray that few lives will be lost."

I smile through a fresh batch of tears. "Be safe, my beautiful warrior."

"My heart is forever yours."

Slowly and reluctantly, I turn from him and start toward the doors of the cave. The guard looks surprised when he sees me, but opens the doors and ushers me inside. They close behind me, and as I hear them being bolted behind me, I take a deep breath to keep myself from falling apart.

Now, all I can do is wait.

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Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 15

I walk towards the heart of the caves with heavy steps. I don't want to do this. I don't want to wait here for hours while my friends are out there, fighting for their lives. While all I want to do is sit down in a corner and cry, I know I can't do that. It won't do anyone any good having me act like a child.

"Julia?"

I look up, and meet Éowyn's eyes. Her eyes are wide, two pools of light grey. "You look surprised to see me," I note, trying to keep my voice friendly. I do want to get along with her.

"I am," she confesses, "I thought you would be with Aragorn and the others, fighting."

I shake my head. "I have no desire to fight. Anyway, I highly doubt they would have let me." A vision comes to me of Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas carrying me kicking and screaming into the caves, and I snort. That would have been quite the scene.

Once again, a surprised look comes on to Éowyn's face. "You do not wish to fight?"

"No, why would I?" Why would anyone enter a battlefield willingly? I wouldn't, that's for sure.

"For glory, and for honour!" Her face becomes animated, her eyes sparkling as she talks about war like it's some sort of glorious thing.

I suddenly become mad. There are young boys out there fighting tonight, and most of them will probably die. What glory is there in that? "Have you actually **been **in battle, Éowyn?" My voice is raised, and I can see the refugees closest to us watching. "Ever had to fight for you life? Because I can tell you, it's neither glorious, or honourable. It's scary as hell!" I move to walk past her, but as she speaks, her words stop me in my track.

"You are not from our lands, you cannot possibly understand our ways."

I take a step closer to her. Her face is determined, but she doesn't move. "I understand more than you think." I lower my voice, memories rolling over me like waves as I speak. "I was there, on the hills of Amon Hen, when the Uruk-Hai attacked us. I fought for my life; for the life of my friends. I watched a friend die while trying to protect us, and I was taken capture by the Uruks for three days. I have seen things you couldn't imagine. You speak of what you don't know." I stand up tall, the sadness and fear I've felt up until now giving way for new emotions. "It's easy to speak of honour in battle, but once you're there," I pause, shaking my head, "you will think of nothing but staying alive." I've said my peace, and I walk past Éowyn. I feel people's eyes on me, but right now I can't really be bothered.

I sit down, pull my knees up to my chest and hug them close to me, leaning my cheek on top of them. I don't know how long I sit there, fifteen minutes maybe, when a rumbling is heard. Not entirely unlike thunder, though this shakes the ground.

The Uruk-Hai. So it truly has begun.

Babies cry, and so do their mothers. Children hide their faces in their parents shoulders. Soon the rumbling becomes so loud I can barely hear myself think. I shut my eyes painfully tight, and start to pray. I've never really believed in God, but as I sit here unable to do anything but wait, I take my chances that some sort of higher power can hear me. I pray to God, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, and the few Hindu Gods I can remember. I even pray to Eru, thinking of Legolas as I do.

Someone sits down next to me, and when I look up I see it's Éowyn. There is a haunted look in her eyes when she faces me. "I apologize for my words," her voice is thick, like she is fighting tears. "I did not know that..." she trails off, but I know what she means. It seems, that while she is fully aware of Aragorn's trials before we came to Edoras, she has forgotten mine.

"Don't worry about it. I understand the point you were making."

She actually smiles, small as it is. Then a large boom can be heard, causing people to scream. Éowyn's hand grabs my arm, squeezing tightly. As I look into her frightened eyes, I cover her hand with mine.

"There will be wounded men coming through here soon. Will you be able to help?" She asks, her voice small.

I nod. "I'll do what I can." I don't want to tell her that I have about as much experience with wounds that she has in computer science. I know how to apply a bandage, but that's about it. My guess is that it's all they're going to need. Any wounded that come through the doors will probably be half dead.

Éowyn stands up and walks around the cave, making sure people are all right, and clears space so we can take care of the wounded. I think she just needs something to do, a feeling I recognize. I find myself spinning the bracelet Legolas gave me, around and around on my wrist until it starts to burn.

Suddenly the large doors slam open, and wounded men begin piling in. I do what I can, working with Éowyn and another woman who is a skilled healer, but it's still tough. It's the most horrific thing I've ever seen in my life, and I try not to vomit as I see some of the injuries. The only thing worse than the sight is the smell. With my hands covered in blood, Éowyn instructs me to go to the doors and make sure that the ones that are already dead gets laid down by the sides; we can't take care of everyone. As I push myself forward towards the door, where wounded and dead soldiers are still milling in, I'm horrified that I will spot one of my friends amongst the wounded.

I'm wrapping bandage around the mangled leg of a boy who can't be older than sixteen, when I hear words that makes me freeze.

"It's an Elf!"

It feels like everything goes in slow motion. I turn towards the door, my eyes wide. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts. A blond Elf is lain out beside the fallen Rohan soldiers. When I reach him, I fall down on my knees. His blond hair is fanned out like a halo framing his pale face. Green eyes stare unblinking at the ceiling; metal armour covers his body. A leaf from Lothlórien is fastened at his neck.

It isn't Legolas.

"Oh my God," I mumble as relief floods through my body. I suddenly feel sick, and I barely have time to turn toward a vacant corner before spilling the contents of my stomach on the stone floor. Tears stream down my face, and I collect some water in my hands to rinse out my mouth. Seeing this dead Elf has left me shaky; I realize just how plausible it is for one of my friends to come through those doors, wounded. Somehow in my mind, I've seen Elves as indestructible. This proves that they're not, and that Legolas could get killed as easily as any other man. Why this Elf was here is something I don't have time to think about.

"Julia!" Éowyn calls for me, and I pull myself together to help the best I can. I'm holding down a soldier by his shoulders while Éowyn cleans a nasty wound on his leg, when a large bang is heard. It sounds almost like an explosion, but it can't be, can it? A few children scream in terror, and I feel like doing the same.

We keep working on the wounded that comes in, though we lose more than we are able to save. I feel so drained, and so tired. I have no idea what time it is; it could have been two hours or three days for all I know. Éowyn hands me a piece of bread, the first thing I've eaten since arriving in the caves, and it does little to settle my stomach. There's more banging now, coming so frequently that you can't separate just what's going on. Then comes the sound of splincing wood, and the refugees start to panic.

"They are breaking in!"

"They're past the doors!"

Holy shit. This is not good. Out of all of us in the caves, only me, Éowyn and the guard outside the door know how to fight. It's going to be impossible to hold the Uruk-Hai off. I hear the doors open, and half expect a bunch of Uruk-Hai to come rushing in. Instead it's a man who I recognize as Gamling, and he's looking scared.

"The enemy has entered the Hornburg. You need to make for the mountain pass, quickly!"

His words start a rush amongst the refugees, and it takes only a few minutes until the caves are nearly empty. Éowyn and I stand in front of Gamling, and I look up at the older man in fear.

"How bad is it? Do we have a chance?"

His expression says it all, and it slowly begins to dawn on me that I might not make it out of this battle alive. At this thought, tears start to well up in my eyes, but I blink them away. I don't have time to be sad.

"We will defend the caves," Éowyn's voice is confident, more confident than I'm feeling right now. If I was given a choice, I'd rather **not **fight the Uruks right now, but since I don't have a choice, I'm going to give it my all. I draw my sword, gripping the handle tightly. I'm ready for this. Then comes the sound of a horn; a low timbre that seems to come out of the mountain itself.

"The horn of Helm Hammerhand," Gamling says. The horn is heard again, and this time a smile lights up Éowyn's face before she picks up her skirts and runs towards the doors. I look after her confused, and watch as Gamling goes into the mountain pass. What the hell is going on? Aren't we fighting? More confused than ever, I follow Éowyn out of the caves.

Helm's Deep looks like, well, a war zone. Dead bodies are lying everywhere; a mixture of Uruk-Hai, Elves and Rohan soldiers in various stages of fatal injuries. The smell is the worst: burnt flesh, smoke and dust miking together and making me slightly nauseous. I quickly sheath my sword, and rush to the highest point I can find, so I'll be able to see out. As I do, I gasp. There's a massive amount of horses in front of the keep, and I use my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. I see a pure white horse, its rider clad in equally white. Gandalf. I find myself smiling. I scan the other riders, looking for my friends. I'm too high up though, so I can't really see any distinguishing features. I decide to take a walk down instead, and so I do.

It takes me a while before I come to the ground level, where a huge piece of the steep wall is missing. That's where the explosion came from, I gather. Soldiers are piling up dead Uruk-Hai, presumably to be burnt, and a shiver goes down my spine when I see the horrible creatures. I haven't forgotten my last encounter with the Uruks. I find Gimli just inside the exploded wall, sitting on a dead Uruk-Hai with his axe embedded in its skull, smoking his pipe.

"Hey Gimli," I say as I approach him, and he grins.

"Good to see ya lassie. Is this not a sight to behold?" He gesture to the battlefield, and once again I feel slightly nauseated.

"It sure is," I say in a fake cheery tone. What I really want is to ask him about Legolas, but for some reason I feel shy.

"You are looking for the Elf," he suddenly says, sucking on his pipe.

I blush. "Am I that transparent?"

"Your expression matches his."

I'm only half listening to Gimli's words, because I see Legolas walking towards us. He smiles when he spots me, and then turns his eyes to Gimli.

"Final count," he says, long fingers stroking his bow. "42." He looks so pleased with himself, it makes me smile.

"42?" Gimli scoffs. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on 43."

Almost faster than I can see, Legolas draws an arrow and shoots it between Gimli's legs at the Uruk-Hai he's sitting on, missing his hand by millimetres.

"43," he smirks, lowering his bow.

"He was already dead," Gimli says.

A playful smile grazes Legolas' lips. "He was twitching."

"He was twitching, because he's got my axe," Gimli grabs his axe and moves it; the dead Uruk moves with it, "embedded in his nervous system!"

I can't help it, I burst out laughing. I think it's mostly the stress of the last hours that's catching up with me. Both Legolas and Gimli joins in on the laughter, and it feels strange laughing in a battlefield. I laugh until my stomach hurts and tears are falling down my face. I wipe them away, and all of the sudden I'm crying for real. I feel Legolas put his arms on mine, and my teary eyes meet his worried ones. He pulls me into his arms. I cling to him, taking comfort in his warmth. I feel like everything I've felt since we parted hours ago is coming out now. Despite not wanting to part from him, I retract myself from Legolas' arms and brush the last stray tears away.

"What happens now?"

"I do not know what the King has planned. He has called a meeting in the Hall."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Gimli says, and with a bit of effort, gets up from the dead Uruk. As they leave, I stand still, at loss for what I'll do now. Looking around, the sheer size of the battle that took place is enough to render me silent.

Walking through the grounds, I realize how many lives were lost last night. Soldiers of Rohan, Men, boys, Elves. Mass graves are being dug, Men and Elves buried half-ceremoniously in them by the men still capable of standing. As I look down in them, chills go up my spine as I see all the death. Then a particular Elf catches my eyes, and I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a sob when I recognize Haldir's broken body. I did not even know that he had been here.

A hand is placed on my shoulder, and Aragorn steps up next to me. "I feel your pain, for it is also my own," his voice is grief stricken.

"When did they come here? And why?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"The Elves of Lórien arrived only minutes after you entered the caves. Lord Elrond sent them, to honour an allegiance once made by Elves and Men."

I look up at him. "It makes me sad when I think that they gave up their Immortal lives for us."

"As does it for me. Come, let us join the others."

"You're doing what?" I exclaim, my eyes wide as I look at Gandalf. He's kidding, he's got to be!

"We are riding to Isengard," he repeats himself. "There are things there that needs doing, that cannot wait."

I look from him, to Legolas, Gimli, and finally Aragorn. "This is madness!"

"It needs to be done, Julia. Do not fret, we shall be back soon." Gandalf says, with a smile.

I look to Legolas. "And you're leaving now?" Oh, how I wished I could get some time with him.

He nods. "As soon as the King can out give orders."

"So, it's soon."

I barely notice the others leaving, I only have eyes for him. Sighing, I step forward and lean my forehead against his chest. My fingers trace the silver patterns on his suede tunic. He gently rests his hands on my upper arms. I hear footsteps approaching, and stopping right by us. I look up, and see a man I don't recognize. Tall and blond, he can only be of Rohan.

"We ride out in five minutes," he says to Legolas, who nods. I meet the eyes of the man for a split second before he walks away.

"Who was that?" I ask once the man is out of sight.

"Éomer, the King's nephew. He and his men were banished from Rohan by Gríma," he pauses. "They slaughtered the Uruk-Hai by Fangorn forest."

"That was them?" I almost feel like I should be thanking Éomer or something. If it wasn't for him and his men, I would have been killed. I remind myself to talk to him sometime in the future, and turn my focus back to the Elf standing in front of me. "How long does it take to get to Isengard?"

"It is a two day journey to Isengard, and a three day journey back to Edoras."

"You'll be gone five days? That's a long time."

"It will go by fast, meleth nín," he assures me. I have no more than a minute or two left with him, so I take the opportunity to kiss him. His lips are warm and soft against my own, and I push my body as close to his as I possibly can. I don't pull away until I hear footsteps approaching, signalling the end of our time together.

"Be safe," I say sternly, and he grins before grasping my hand and kissing my knuckles.

"For you, anything."

* * *

Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: **First, I can't believe I've gotten 80 reviews for this little story of mine! You are all awesome! Second, I've created a board for this story over on Pinterest which is called The Road That You Go. I'll post a link for that on my profile. Third, I'm going out of town tomorrow to visit my best friend, so I won't be able to update until next week.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 16

It takes a couple of hours to gather everything and everyone and start the long walk back to Edoras. Since Legolas is riding Arod, I'm now walking. It's tiresome for sure, but I have Éowyn to keep me company. It feels weird going without my three companions, especially Legolas, but I know I'll see them again soon. The spirits of the refugees is much lighter today than it was when we walked to Helm's Deep. It's no wonder; we've won a big battle. Still, there's this nagging feeling in my mind that it isn't near over yet, that this battle was just the tip of the iceberg.

My feet are aching by the time we set up camp, and I take a quiet moment by the fire to put my feet up and remove my boots. The elven boots may be comfortable, but it's still tough on the feet to walk all day. I massage my heels as I look out over the camp. I see Saelufu and her family a bit further away, and wave at them. Éowyn comes to sit next to me, and we chat for a few moments about all and nothing.

"Do you know if we're near any kind of water? It would be great to be able to wash off," I ask her as my fingers pick on the dried blood on my arm. There is still blood on my body from when I helped the soldiers, and I would prefer to get it off as soon as possible.

"Yes, there is a stream behind those trees." She points to the right, where I see a gathering of trees. "Do you need a guard as protection?"

I shake my head as I refasten my boots. "No, I'll be okay. I have my sword."

She smiles. "If that is your wish. I believe the food will be ready in about quarter of an hour."

"Sounds good, see you then." I rise to my feet and make sure I have my sword, a piece of cloth which I'll use a a towel, and the small bag containing my comb and such before I make my way over to the stream.

The water looks inviting, and I glance back to the camp. Do I dare to take my clothes off? The chances of someone walking by is pretty high, but the stream is still secluded enough to offer the privacy I need. I decide not to be so modest, so I quickly remove my clothes and jump into the water. It's pretty cold, and it shocks me for a moment before my body gets used to it. I undo my plait and stick my head under the water. I stay in the water only as long as I need, and I still get goosebumps. Reaching for my towel, I'm starting to dry off when I hear a twig breaking, and in a flash I'm grasping my sword. I'm still waist deep in water, with one hand holding the cloth over my breasts.

"Who's there?" I call out. This feels slightly like a bad horror movie. It could just be an animal though, I can't be sure. I have to eat my words though, when I see a tall Rohan soldier step out from the shadows. He looks to be in his thirties, and his blue eyes are fixed on me. Or rather my cloth covered chest. "Name yourself," I command. I don't like the look in his eyes.

"Lady Éowyn sent me to tell you there is food available," he replies, his voice low. I don't believe him for a second.

"That is a lie," I say, raising my sword higher. "Éowyn knew I was here to bathe, if she wanted to give me a message she would have done so herself, or sent one of the women. She wouldn't have sent a man. What do you want?"

"You are the one, aren't you?" He says, seemingly oblivious to what I just said. "The woman from another realm, so strange in her ways. The one who came with Gandalf the white, Aragorn of Arathorn, the Elf and the Dwarf," he nearly spits out the last words. My face darkens.

"Those are my friends of whom you speak; I would watch my tongue if I were you." Though my voice sounds secure, my mind is planning an escape route, should it come to that. I realize my odds are not high; I'm in the water, naked, and he's got at least seven inches and fifty pounds on me.

"Julia?" I hear a voice, and relief floods through my body. Through the trees, I see Éowyn coming towards us. She stops when she sees us, and her wide eyes looks from the soldier, to me, and then back again. She says something to him in Rohirric, and it sounds like a reprimand. The soldier bows his head, and glances at me before walking back to the camp. Éowyn turns to me, and I see worry in her eyes. "I am so sorry! I do not know what was going on his mind when he cornered you, and I assure you he will be punished for doing so."

"Don't worry about it," I say, putting my sword down on the river bank. Although I'm not 100% certain I could have handled the situation on my own, I don't mention it to her.

She doesn't leave, just turns her back to me so I can get out of the water and dry off. I get dressed in a hurry; not fancying another soldier walking past. We start walking back to the camp, and I brush my hair out and put it back in a plait. The rest of the evening goes by pretty quickly; after we eat I help with the washing up, and then we sit around the campfire for a few hours, talking. It's when everyone has gone to sleep, when only Éowyn and I sit by the fire, that she asks something I didn't expect.

"If you do not mind me asking, what is going on between you and the Elf?" There is no malice in her voice, nor spite. Only mild curiosity.

"I don't mind you asking," I say, buying myself a few seconds to come up with an answer. "The thing is, I don't know what to call it. We're not betrothed in the technical sense," she raises her eyebrows at me. "but we're together, I guess? I mean, I love him, and he loves me."

She hesitates for a second, and when she speaks her voice is careful. "Will it not be a problem, with him being immortal? You will die, and he will not."

My stomach clenches a bit at her words, because I try not to think about that so much. "It's not something we've talked about," I say. "But I will admit, it was the main reason why I didn't tell him how I felt at first. But this is war, there is no surety we will even survive this week. Life's too short not to act on ones feelings." She bows her head down, and I can tell she's thinking about Aragorn. "I have not met her," I say, and Éowyn's head flies up and our eyes meet. "But I recognize the look in his eyes, and the tone in his voice when he talks about her. He will love her till he dies."

"Do not pity me," she says, and her voice is strong. "I knew beforehand that it was not meant to be."

"You'll find someone, I'm sure of it," I assure her.

She doesn't answer, and we sit in silence for several minutes before she stands up. "I am going to bed. We've got a busy day ahead of us. Sleep well, Julia."

"Sleep well," I say, and watch as she walks into the tent, pulling the flap down to give herself some privacy.

Turning my face back to the fire, I let out a sigh. I don't feel tired at all, but I know I should try to get some sleep. For the millionth time today, I find myself twisting the leather bracelet Legolas made me, and it makes my heart ache. I don't sit up long, I know I'll only miss him more and feel worse. Éowyn is snoring slightly in the tent when I enter, and I smile. Somehow, how different they may be, her soft snores reminds me of Gimli, and it makes falling asleep a lot easier.

To say that the next few days go by slowly is only a part lie. The minute we get back to Edoras, there is a million things that needs to be done, and I'm put to work by Éowyn straight away. It's when the darkness falls, and it's time to go to sleep, that the minutes seems to drag on like hours. I miss my friends extremely, and Legolas more than I ever thought it possible to miss someone. There's also a flurry of activities in my room; there will be a feast when the King gets back, and Éowyn has a team of seamstresses working almost around the clock to finish a dress for me.

At the moment I'm stuck upon a stool while three Rohan women are pinning together the dress. I'm fidgeting, and they keep poking me with the needles because of it.

"Please, Lady Julia, keep still. You will be a bloody mess otherwise."

"Sorry," I say, reaching up a hand to scratch my nose. I can't help it, I'm both excited and nervous. They're coming back today, within the next couple of hours. A messenger came to the Hall this morning, sent by the King. Another needle pokes my side, and I flinch. I try to keep still from there on, though it's hard. I can already tell it's going to be a beautiful dress though; rich green embroidery, with long bell sleeves.

There's a knock on the door, and when it opens I see Éowyn's face. She's beaming. "They just rode through the gates. It shall be no longer than ten minutes before they are here."

"Ten minutes?" I say, and I can already feel my legs wanting to run to meet them. I look down at the head seamstress. "Is the fitting done soon?"

She is an older woman of around fifty, and she gives a small smile when she sees the look in my eyes. "You go and greet your man, we can manage the rest without you."

I blush at her words, but pull the dress off as fast as I can. I get dressed in my own clothes quickly, in fact, so quick that I don't realize I've put my pants on backwards until Éowyn points it out. Once I'm dressed properly, I take a quick minute in front of the mirror. My hair gets pulled from the plait and I run my fingers through it quickly. When I feel I look presentable, I follow Éowyn out of the room and towards the Hall. We go out in front of the front doors, and over the sound of the wind I hear horses approaching. I smile, pushing my hair back behind my ears.

They're finally here!

I'm practically bouncing when the troup stops at the bottom of the steps and dismount. Much to my surprise I see two short, shaggy haired Hobbits being lifted down onto the ground, and I feel my smile widen.

"Merry! Pippin!" I exclaim, and rush down the steps towards them.

"Julia!" Pippin shouts back, and I hear joy in his voice.

I lean down and embrace them tightly, getting a mouth and nose full of curly hobbit hair as I do. "It's so wonderful to see you!"

They start talking fast, so fast it's impossible for me to hear them. Aragorn comes up behind them and places a hand on each their shoulder.

"There will be a better time for reuniting later." He looks up at me and winks. The Hobbits both agree, and smiles at me before they follow Aragorn up towards the Hall. I look after them, and then turn my head forwards.

My heart skips a beat.

Legolas is looking at me, smiling slightly. I want nothing more than to fling myself in his arms and hold him as tightly as I can, but I'm not sure how appropriate that might be. The King is still in the courtyard, as is Éomer. I do a wobbly curtsy like movement quickly at both of them, and then turn my eyes to Gimli. The smile I give him is reciprocated before he walks past me towards the Hall. I turn my eyes to Legolas, and his eyes say the same as mine.

"Will you help me put away Arod?" He asks, his velvet voice sending a shiver down my spine.

"Yes," my voice is barely louder than a whisper. We start walking side by side to the stable, in silence. I help take of Arod's bridle, stroking his muzzle as I do say, and hang it on its place in the tack room. Then, when the tasks are done, I look up at Legolas. We step forward at the same time, and my arms go around him tightly. I sigh contently. This feels right. His hands strokes my waist, and I can feel his lips against my hair.

"My mind has scarcely been on anything other than you since we parted," he says, his voice silky against my hair. I swoon.

Tilting my head up, my eyes meet his. Without a word, I reach up and press my lips softly against his, my eyes shutting. The moment our lips touch, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. All the stress and worry and whatnot I've been carrying with me since we parted at Helm's Deep disappears. I feel myself being backed up against the wall, and it's probably for the best since my knees are failing me at the moment. Our lips part, and I breathe in deeply, feeling my lungs fill with much needed air.

I open my eyes, and smile. "I love you."

"Meleth nín," he answers, his hand coming up to stroke the hair from my face.

I am just about to kiss him again when he pulls away, stepping away from my body. I frown, confused about his behaviour. Then I hear footsteps, and understand. Éomer comes into sight in the doorway, holding a saddle and bridle in his arms.

"Gandalf is asking for you both," he says to Legolas as he hangs the saddle on the wall.

"Thank you," I say, and Éomer turns his head and gives a slight nod. Legolas grabs my hand, and our fingers entwine as we walk out of the stable and up towards the hall. My hair is blowing all over my face, and I push it back with my free hand. When we enter the Hall, I see none of my companions, but we are quickly directed to a room off the main hallway, where the others are gathered.

I embrace Merry and Pippin tightly again, noticing how they both seem a bit thinner and much wearier than when I saw them last. No wonder, with everything that's happened. Still, they both have that spark in their eyes that makes me smile. I also take the time to hug my other friends. If they are uncomfortable with my actions, they don't show it.

"It's good to have everyone gathered again," I say with a smile, but then my face fall as I think about the three members of our group that are **not** here. Legolas' hand touches my lower back, and I lean back against his touch.

"Do not trouble your mind with things you cannot change," Gandalf says, his voice soothing.

"Gandalf is right." Aragorn looks up from his pipe. "We need to have faith in Frodo and Sam."

"I know," I say with a sigh. "But it's hard. Being optimistic has never been my strong suit, if I'm to be honest."

"That's all right, I can be optimistic enough for the both of us," Pippin says with a grin, and I chuckle.

"You do that, Pip."

We are interrupted by a knock on the door, and when Gimli opens it I am happy to see Éowyn standing on the other side. She bows her head in greeting before speaking.

"I am glad you have returned safely. Food and water will be provided for you shortly. Julia, you need to come with me. Your dress." She clarifies when she sees my confused face.

"Oh." I know I have to go, I can't very well go naked to the feast tonight, but I don't want to leave just yet. Giving all my friends, and Legolas, a smile and a wave goodbye, I follow Éowyn.

I spend the next few hours perched on the same stool I stood on the entire morning, only now the garment covering me looks more like a dress instead of just a piece of fabric.

"There, all done," the elderly seamstress says with a smile as she steps back and looks at me.

There is no mirror in this room, so I have to wait to look at the dress until I'm all finished for the feast. It's almost as much work getting ready for this as it does for a club night out in London. A warm bath is provided for me, with oils that smells wonderful. I don't dare wash my hair; it will take hours for it to dry. Thankfully, I am spared of wearing a corset, since they are custom made to fit the body. It's not a loss I'm mourning, I had to wear a corset once for a play, and it was one of the most uncomfortable pieces of clothing I've ever worn in my entire life.

One of Éowyn's maids comes in to help me on with the dress; the lacing in the back makes it impossible to put on by yourself. Once the dress is on, I take my hair out of its braid and comb it through with my fingers. Looking in the small mirror over the dresser, I sigh when I look at my hair. It looks boring, just hanging there. I section out the two front pieces of hair, which is a bit shorter than the rest, and pull them back from my face, before securing them in the back with my hair band. There, that looks better. A knock comes on the door, which is a sign it's time for the feast. I take a deep breath. Okay, here goes nothing.

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	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: **I can't believe we're almost at a 100 reviews for this little story of mine! I love you all!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

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**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 17

The feast is unlike anything I've ever seen before. The length of the Great Hall is filled with long tables, and there is food and drink everywhere. I stay close to Éowyn; I don't see any of my friends yet. People are still milling in through all doors possible, it seems. Everywhere I look there are soldiers, children and women. I hear my name being called, and when I turn around, I suddenly feel short of breath. A beacon of light he seems, walking towards me. Everything about him is fair, unlike the dark and rich colours of the hall. He stops mere inches from me, and the smile on his face makes my heart soar.

His eyes take me in, and his hand reaches for my own. "You look breathtaking."

I squeeze his fingers gently. "You don't look too shabby yourself."

At this point, Éowyn excuses herself from our company, claiming she needs to find her brother. I notice people are starting to sit down, and I silently wonder where we are sitting. My hand still clasped in his, Legolas starts to walk. We walk past the tables where the soldiers are sitting, and I can feel their eyes on us. As we come to a halt, I realize we are standing in front of the King's table. Legolas pulls out the chair for me, but I hesitate for a second.

"Are you sure this is where we're sitting?" I ask, my voice low.

He gives a slight nod. "The King has requested us to sit at his left side, as honourable guests. All of us."

I sit down, and let my mind wonder as Legolas takes a seat next to me. It makes sense, at least that the King would want Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf at his table, they did fight at Helm's Deep. As for myself and the Hobbits, I suspect our good treatment is because of the fellowship. Glancing quickly to my right, I see that the only other female to sit at the King's table is Éowyn, and by the surprised looks on some of the soldiers faces I take it that women don't often sit up here. I don't blame Theoden, or even feel mistreated. This is a very different time, and culture, from what I'm used to. Misogynistic views are practically norm here, despite if you're a farmer's daughter or a noble woman.

It only takes a few minutes for everybody to settle down, and the rest of my friends to join us at the King's table. As Theoden enters, everybody is on their feet and cheering. I see the faintest smile on his face as he goes up to his throne, and raises his hands to quiet everyone down.

"My friends, we have won a great battle!" More cheering, and he waits until it's quiet again before speaking. "Though the war is not over, we have shown the enemy that we are a force to be reckoned with! Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country." He raises his goblet. "Hail the victorious dead."

"Hail!" We return his toast, and I take only a small sip of my goblet. I do not want to get drunk, especially not on Rohirrim beer. It's no doubt more potent than the stuff I'm used to, and I've always been somewhat of a lightweight.

After Theoden's toast the dinner begins, and even after spending this long in Middle Earth I am wary of the food. There's a lot of different meats, bread, cheese, and both fresh fruit and pickled vegetables, most likely whatever vegetables the Rohirrim women could get their hands on. These are the things I feel comfortable eating without risking ending up with food poisoning. There's also stews and dumplings which I see both Gimli and Gandalf eat gladly, but I don't dare touch those. I fill up pretty quickly though, and I suspect the beer isn't totally innocent in this. As the feast carries on, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself; the conversations flows on almost as good as the beer, and Merry and Pippin has the entire top table roaring with laughter with their stories.

It becomes clear, after about an hour, that the drinking is overtaking the eating, and the tables in the central of the hall is cleared away to make room for dancing. Minstrels has been singing and playing all evening, though they can barely be heard over the chatter and laughter. The whole atmosphere, with smoke and laughter in the air, is really making me relaxed. Or maybe that's just the beer. Anyhow, I'm having a great time. Sometime between my second and third tankard of beer, in the middle of Gimli's stories about Dwarvish feasts, Éomer speaks up.

"Are you prepared to put your skills to the test, Master Dwarf?" He smiles, and Gimli laughs.

"Against you laddie? That is no match, I have been drinking beer since before you were born."

"Actually," he looks in my general direction. "I was thinking that maybe you were up for it," he says to Legolas.

I expect him to refuse, which is why I'm surprised when he gives a half grin and nods. "You will have to tell me rules, as I do not know them."

This is going to be too good to miss, but I find myself being dragged by Éowyn to another table where a bunch of women is sitting. Éowyn introduces me, and I forget all their names as soon as she says them. We have quite the good time though, given that they mostly want to hear me talk about where I'm from, and my companions. Especially Aragorn and Legolas. Guess it doesn't matter which world you're in; the interest in pretty boys exists everywhere. More than once do we lose a woman in our group to a Rohan man who offers her a dance. I get my fair share of offers as well, but I turn them all down. Dancing isn't my forte. Looking over towards where the drinking game is still full on, I get a bit worried when I count at least ten empty tankards in front of Legolas. But he doesn't seem very drunk, so I decide not to worry. He's a grown man, eh, Elf, and doesn't need me to look after him like a mum.

Pippin and Merry are dancing on the tables, singing a song about a tavern back in the Shire. It makes me laugh, and I clap my hands to the beat of the song, like many others. The festives are beginning to wind down a bit, I think. Honestly, I've been feel pretty tired since I downed my fourth tankard a few minutes ago, which I did right before dancing, actually dancing, with Aragorn. We spend more time laughing at how terrible we are than anything else, but still.

"Aragorn, care to give me a hand?" Éomer's amused voice interrupts our laughter, and we both look over in his direction. Gimli is laying on his back, snoring, absolutely piss drunk. I burst out laughing, and Aragorn is quick to join me.

"You grab one arm, I'll take the other," Aragorn manages to say after he has stopped laughing, and I watch as he and Éomer drags the unconscious Gimli off to the room where they all will be sleeping.

Looking around the room, I see that most of the people of Rohan have left, other than the ones staying in Meduseld. Servants are going around, cleaning up the empty serving plates and knocked over tankards that seem to be everywhere. I stifle a yawn, and decide to get to bed. I look for Legolas, but don't see him anywhere. He's probably in the sleeping quarters. Going down the hallway towards my room, I stumble slightly, which makes me giggle.

"Good job, Jules, get drunk while we're in the middle of war," I say to myself. I'm not really drunk, just tipsy. "Wouldn't it be a laugh if we were called to battle right now, with me being too drunk to handle my sword."

"Julia?"

I stop, and turn around. A wide smile covers my face when I see Aragorn standing there. "Hi."

He looks amused at me. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I insist, though the room is spinning slightly. "Though, I have a feeling I've had too much to drink. I think I need water. And Legolas. Yes, water and Legolas. Can you get me that, please?"

Walking up to me, he lightly grabs my elbow. "Your wish is my command, my lady."

I snort at his attempt at humour, and let him lead me away. We go to the kitchens, where it's still busy. Aragorn lets go of me and exchanges a few words with one of the servants, and returns after a minute with a mug of water. I drink it slowly, and get the mug filled once more before I'm done. Aragorn thanks the servants, and leads me away again. As he leads me towards the big doors that leads outside, I can feel myself sobering up. The night air will no doubt do the rest.

The outside air is chilly, but refreshing on my warm cheeks, and I take a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs. A figure clad in a black cloak stands on the edge of the platform, and it doesn't take me long to recognize that it's Legolas. I walk up to him and slides my hand in his. He looks at me with a smile on his face, showing no surprise to see me. I smile back, and lean my head on his shoulder. The smell of smoke reaches me, and I see Aragorn lighting up his pipe.

"The stars are veiled," Legolas says, looking up at the night sky. I do the same, and frown. There isn't a single star out, the sky is dark and looks like it's filled with thick black smoke. "Something stirs in the East, a sleepless malice." His tone of voice is making me nervous, and I wish I had my sword. "The eye of the enemy is moving." Sauron. Shit. This is not good news, not good news at all. Suddenly he drops my hand, and his wide eyes turn to me and Aragorn. "He is here."

It takes a fraction of a second, and then both Legolas and Aragorn are running, with me not far behind. I hike up my skirt, it's tangling around my legs and causing me to stumble. We burst into the room provided for us, and I let out a scream as my hands cover my mouth. Pippin is standing in the middle of the room, his body contorted in an unnatural way. His face is grimaced in pain, and in his hands is a flaming object that's shaped like a bowling ball.

"Help him!" Merry cries, and in two strides Aragorn has crossed the room and taken the object from Pippin. His body starts contorting, and he struggles with the objects briefly before he drops it. He falls to the floor, and both Legolas and I rush forward to help him.

"What the hell is that thing?" I ask, my voice panic stricken.

"It's a Palantír," Aragorn says, panting slightly as he sits up. "One of the seven seeing-stones, having been lost for a long time. This one belonged to Saruman."

He stands, and brushes the dust of his pants. I eye him worriedly, but he shows no signs of keeling over, so I let it go. Looking over at Pippin, my breath hitches in my throat. He's lying on his back with Gandalf sitting by his side. He is so pale, and beads of sweat are gathered on his forehead. He looks so fragile, it chills me to the bone. I don't realize that I'm crying until Legolas is in front of me, brushing his thumb over my cheek.

"Do not cry. He will be all right, he is just a bit shook up."

"What do we do now?" Merry asks, his voice wavering and showing his concern for his friend.

"We try to sleep," Gandalf says as he stands up. "There is nothing can be done at this hour. It be best we wait until the morning." His eyes meet mine for a second when he goes back to his bedroll. I can't decipher what the look is supposed mean, but I kind of figure that it might not mean anything. It's been a long night.

"Is there a bedroll available for me?" I ask, and Gandalf nods. He points to one in the corner of the room, and I walk with heavy steps towards it. I'm exhausted, and want nothing more than just to sleep. I don't even care that I still have my heavy dress on, or that I'll be sleeping on a thin bedroll on a stone floor instead of a soft bed which I have to admit, I've gotten kind of used to in the past week. I lay down, and pull the blanket over my body. Closing my eyes, I hear Aragorn and Legolas speak softly in Elvish before I fall asleep.

When I wake up, it's to an empty room. I sit up gingerly, still feeling exhausted. No doubt a combination of the beer I had last night, and the stress with the Palantír. Walking back to my room to change, I can hear something is going on in the main hall. Hearing both Gandalf's and Aragorn's voices, I decide to hurry up changing clothes. This, however, proves to be easier said than done, because I've forgotten that this wretched dress is laced up in the back, making it impossible to put on and remove by yourself. I do try, but it's futile. I can't get the damn laces undone. Correction, I've managed to get them undone to a point where I can't go outside my room to look for a handmaiden or Éowyn to help me, but not having loosened them enough to get the dress off.

"Fuck," I mutter softly, and sit down on the bed, resting my chin on my hand. There's really nothing else to do but sit here and hope that someone comes by soon. Sighing, I start removing the dirt from underneath my fingernails. There's a knock on the door, and I stand up quickly. "Come in!"

The door opens, and I smile when I see Legolas walking through the door. "I was concerned when you were absent from the sleeping quarters," he say as he closes the door behind him.

"I came here to change; this dress is pretty limiting." I reach behind me and try to tug some more on the laces. "I'm having some problems though," I ask, feeling more than slightly embarrassed. "I can't get these stupid laces undone, could you maybe help me? Or if not, maybe get Éowyn so she can help me?"

He looks at me for a few seconds, and his bright blue eyes darkens slightly. He lightly touches my shoulders and applies pressure to make me turn around. I comply, and pull my braid forward so it won't be in the way. I feel his fingers touch the bare skin of my back lightly, and a chill goes through my body. He loosens the laces slowly, and I think my knees might buckle. The front of my dress sags, and I clutch it to my chest, as not to become entirely exposed. I'm starting to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. His fingers disappears from my back, and I turn around to face him. Every fibre of my being tells me to take a step forward and kiss him; hold him to my body and let the love I feel for him show. So I take a step back, and clear my throat.

"Thanks. I'll be out in a minute." I really don't want to do anything I'll possible regret later. He gives me a small smile, and then leaves. Once the door is closed and I'm alone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Shaking my head, I chuckle. "Get a grip, Jules. This isn't the time for this."

I quickly shed the dress and put on my normal clothes, as well as brush and re-braid my hair. When I get to the main hall, it's empty. I frown, and decide to go outside to look for my friends. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I look out over the stables and houses. Suddenly Shadowfax comes galloping out of the stables, with Gandalf and Pippin on his back. I watch in confusion as Gandalf steers Shadowfax towards the lower region of the city. I meet Gimli on the stairs on my way down, and I ask him what's going on. As he explains it to me, I can't help but to feel a sense of dread. If things are as bad as he says, it might be a while before I see Gandalf or Pippin again, if at all.

You don't know, in this time of war. And that scares the living crap out of me.

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	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Lots of love for my wonderful readers!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, only my original characters.

* * *

**The Road That You Go**

Chapter 18

I fall down on my back, and quickly roll over to get up on my feet again. I've barely managed to get my footing before the blade comes down on me again, and I block it with a grunt. Swinging my sword around and pushing, my attacker loses his balance and stumbles. I see an opening and take it, and within seconds my blade is pressed against his chest.

"Yield?" I ask, a teasing grin on my face.

Aragorn drops his arms to his sides and grins. "Yield."

I lower my sword and laugh. This is the first time I've managed to win, and it feels awesome. I have no doubts that I'll be sore in the morning, but I don't care.

"Good work Julia, but watch your left side. You tend to drop your arm and leave your side exposed," Aragorn says as he regains his breathing. I nod and sweep the back of my hand over my forehead, wiping away the sweat. "Are you feeling up for another round?"

"Sure, let me just get some water." I slide my sword back in the scabbard and leave for the kitchens, and when I get back, Aragorn isn't alone anymore. He's talking to Éowyn, and I try to ignore the too bright smile on her face. "Éowyn, hi."

She looks up at me when she hears my voice. "Good day Julia. I was just asking Lord Aragorn if I could steal you away after lunch. You cannot possible train the entire day."

I look to Aragorn, who nods slightly. "Sure, I'm free. Did you have something special in mind?"

She smiles again. "Come find me after lunch, and you'll see."

"Sounds good," I smile. She leaves, and as she closes the door behind her, I'm already drawing my sword and turning to Aragorn. "I'm gonna get you again, old man. You can count on that."

He only laughs as he raises his sword. And so it's on.

"You could have gone easy on me," I complain as we sit down to eat lunch a few hours later. I'm more confident now than before that I will wake up tomorrow to a sore body full of bruises. Particularly one on my hip when I managed to trip over Aragorn's feet and fall over.

"Where would the fun in that be?" Aragorn chuckles. "A real enemy would not go easy on you, so I will not either."

My mind flashes back to Amon Hen. Steel clashing against steel, sweat pouring down my face. I know very well a real enemy wouldn't go easy on me. Despite not having seen a lot of battle, I doubt there's an enemy worse than a Uruk-Hai. "I know," I say, and bump his shoulder with mine to show I'm not cross with him. "Same time tomorrow?"

"If you can move," he teases, causing me to laugh.

I meet up with Éowyn outside Meduseld after lunch, and she smiles when she sees me. "I thought we might go for a ride. It has always been a favourite of mine for when I need to unwind."

My smile is bright as I imagine the wind in my hair as we ride across the plains. "I'd love to!"

We go down to the stables, and a few horses snicker when they hear us. Éowyn stops in front of a grey mare, and touches the horse's face. "This is my horse, Windfola." She turns to look at me. "My uncle gave her to me when I was just a girl."

"She's beautiful," I say and reach up to stroke Windfola's neck. "I had a horse for almost ten years, but she died. Since then I haven't really ridden much, though I still love it."

Éowyn and I go further into the stable, and she shows me a beautiful chestnut gelding, who neighs softly when we approach. "His name is Lyfgast. It means air spirit."

"It suits him," I smile and reach my hand up so he can smell it. There's something about this horse that really speaks to me. As I touch his face, he pushes closer to my hand.

Éowyn and I saddle up the horses and lead them outside. I can tell Lyfgast is excited because I'm having some trouble getting him to walk calmly behind Windfola. I pull his reins slightly and push my back against his shoulder, and he slows down. Halting him right outside the stable, I check his girth before pulling the stirrup down. There's quite a lot of people around, and I can feel their eyes on me. I hope I'll be able to get up on Lyfgast at least somewhat gracefully. He's taller than Arod, and I really don't want to make a fool out of myself. Thankfully, Lyfgast stands perfectly still as I grab his mane with one hand, put my foot in the stirrup, hold on to the back of the saddle, and hoist myself up. I find the other stirrup and sit up straighter. This feels right, in a way with didn't with Arod. I smile to myself. Some horses you just bond better with than others.

Something makes me look up towards Meduseld, and I see Legolas standing on the top of the stairs. I can't see the look on his face, but I can almost feel his smile. I haven't been able to spend much time with him today, and I make a mental note to seek him up when Éowyn and I get back. The people that are outside are watching us as we ride through Edoras towards the gates. Lyfgast seems really excited to be out and moving, and when I ask Éowyn about it, she says that he belonged to a soldier that died in Helm's Deep.

We can't go too far away from the city, but we still manage quite a long ride. As we're galloping through the plains, I can't help but to laugh as I stand in the stirrups. The wind in my hair, the feeling of Lyfgast's even strides underneath me, it makes me feel carefree, which I haven't really experienced since I came to Middle Earth.

"This is great," I pant as we slow the horses down to a walk. We're not far from Edoras, only minutes away from the gates. Darkness is falling around us, which tells me we've been out for at least two hours. The night comes earlier than it should.

"I have always used it as an escape," Éowyn says, and I look over at her. There's a look on her face that I'm not sure if I like or not. "When my mind becomes too loud."

"I can understand that. I actually felt carefree for a while there," I chuckle, and Éowyn smiles.

"We must all find happiness where we can. I fear soon it will be too late." She sighs and strokes Windfola's mane.

Dread fills me. It's easy to forget, especially right now, that there is still a war going on, a war that will decide the faith of Middle Earth, and all who inhabit it. Including me. I think, and not for the first time, that there is so much at stake here, and so much uncertainty. Even if we win the war, what does that mean for me? Where do I go, what do I do? I'm not naive enough to think that everything will be easy and magically solve itself. But that is a concern I can't afford to have right now. I need to be alert and keep my shit together. I have plenty of time to worry about the other stuff if we win the war.

_When, _I quickly reprimand myself. _When_ we win the war.

By the time we lead the horses into the stable, it's pitch black outside. I spend a lot of time in Lyfgast's stall, not willing to give up the peacefulness and lightening of my spirit that the ride gave me. Brushing his chestnut coat, I hum softly to myself.

"You were the one they spoke of."

The voice makes me jump, and I put a hand over my racing heart as I turn around. Éomer stands outside the stall, eyes fixed on me.

"Pardon?" What's he on about?

"I did not make the connection until recently. They spoke of a woman, among the two Hobbits. It must have been you."

Now I realize what he's talking about. The slaughtering of the Uruk-Hai by Fangorn forest. Legolas' words at Helm's Deep comes back to me. "Yes, that was me."

His brow lowers, and he sifts his weight to his other leg. "How did we not notice? Battle or not; no man could mistake a beautiful woman for an orc."

Lyfgast rubs his head against my shoulder, and I scratch his neck for a second before answering. "I don't know. It was dark? As soon as I figured out what was going on, I made my way to Fangorn forest for shelter. I didn't exactly fancy getting an arrow through me."

"Were you injured?" he inquires, his eyes raking up and down my body.

"Not by anything else than my own clumsiness," I say with a small smile. "I do owe you and your men thanks though. You saved my life."

Éomer tips his head slightly forward in a bow. "Though not needed, your gratitude is welcome." With these parting words he leaves, and I am once again alone with Lyfgast.

It doesn't take long to finish brushing Lyfgast, and I scratch his neck before leaving. It's chilly outside, the wind blowing through my leggings and tunic, and I wrap my cloak tighter around my body as I walk hastily up the stairs to Meduseld.

There's a lot of people in the hall, as per usual, and I go sit by Merry and Gimli, who is drinking ale and talking. I join their conversation, but I haven't been sitting long before Gamling comes up to our table.

"My Lady, the King has requested your presence. Follow me."

With a slight worrying glance at Gimli, who looks as confused as I feel, I stand up and follow Gamling. He leads me to a room by the back hallway, which I've only walked past once or twice in my time here. He stops by a large wooden door, knocks on it, and awaits an answer before opening it. Motioning for me to go inside he gives a, what I hope is, reassuring smile. I go inside, and the door is shut behind me.

The room is medium sized, and has rich tapestries all over the walls with images of what I assume to be the history of Rohan. Opposite the door is a large desk made from dark wood, and behind the desk sits the King. I can't help but to feel like I've been sent to the headmaster's office.

"Sit down, child," Theoden says, gesturing with his hand for me to sit in a chair right in front of me. I do as I'm told, and as soon as I'm seated he starts talking again. "How do you fare here in Edoras?"

"Very well, my Lord," I say, too nervous to say otherwise. It's not a lie, I **do** like it here, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that my heart is elsewhere.

He leans back in his chair and reaches up to scratch his beard. "I have heard from Aragorn that you are good with a sword."

His comment makes me blush. "Acceptable maybe, but no more. I haven't had any experience with a sword other than my training sessions with Aragorn." And Amon-Hen, but I decline to tell him that.

"Nevertheless, he tells me you have greatly improved your skills. I am not a fool, I know that it will not be much longer until we are in war. I do not know your intentions for when that comes, but know that I will take no responsibility for your actions nor your welfare." I frown, what is he saying? "You may go."

Realizing I have been dismissed, I stand up and bow my head before leaving. Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and ponder for a moment on his words. He will take no responsibility for my actions nor my welfare. At once it hits me that King Theoden just told me that he won't stop me if I want to fight with the Rohirrim! That is rather strange, I have to admit. But again, he also said that he won't take any responsibility for if I die. Which I probably would if I fought with them.

"Julia?"

I look up and see Aragorn standing to my right, looking slightly puzzled as to why I am there. "Oh, hi."

"You met with the King?"

Aha, so he knew about it! I nod and push my body of the door. "Yes I did. Do you have time to train?"

Aragorn chuckles. "Yes, I do."

* * *

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